Night Sounds
Imitated from the Chinese The moonlight on my bed keeps me awake; Living alone now, aware of the voices of evening, A child weeping at nightmares, the faint love.
cries of a woman, Everything tinged by terror or nostalgia.
No heavy, impassive back to nudge with one foot While coaxing, 'Wake up and hold me,' When the moon's creamy beauty is transformed Into a map of impersonal desolation.
But, restless in this mock dawn of moonlight That so chills the spirit, I alter our history:
You were never able to lie quite peacefully at
my side, Not the night through. Always withholding some- thing. . . .
Awake before morning, restless and uneasy, Trying not to disturb me, you would leave my bed While I lay there rigidly, feigning sleep.
Still—the night was nearly over, the light not as cold As a full cup of moonlight.
And there were the lovely times when, to the skies' cold No You cried to me, Yes! Impaled me with affir- mation.
Now when I call out in fear, not in love, there is no answer.
Nothing speaks'in the dark but the distant voices, A child with the rnoon on his face, a dog's hollow, cadence.
CAROLYN KIZER
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