Looking through my notebooks this morning I was pleased to discover this poem. From the dates of surrounding entries, I concluded that I wrote it in the winter of 2005. I was living in Saratoga Springs, New York, at that time, and doing my last stretch in nursing school. I remember I was always tired then. Between life, work, classes, and clinical, finding time to lay my head down and rest became a treasure.

in slumber

here is a framework
upon which I lay–
hard and soft,
pale and dark,
thin brittle paint
peeling fast away

lines that curve,
lines stick straight,
lessons in asymmetry;
funny cradle for
a funny girl,
balanced precariously

so if I should fall
before I wake,
gravity taking its toll,
then let that be
the bed I make
for so weary a heart
and soul