|
|
I see you family
of tired eyes,
looking down from your
frames on my
wall like a battalion of
insomniacs
captured without
a fight. I see you
Ruth Schechter, sleepless
poet, you walker at midnight,
you eater of unscheduled
meals,
you wrestler of so many late-night
twistings and turnings on your
bed of nails and sofa
refuge. I see you
Danny Schechter, puffy-
eyed at your computer,
talking words onto
the screen,
waking us with your
3 a.m. mumblings, then rising
early, and-gone! I see you
now, as I saw you, sitting
here with my eyes
black
as night.
November 14. 1999