The Quick of Night

 

—Poetry and Photos by Robin Gale Odam,

Sacramento, CA

 

 

 

INSOMNIA XXIV

The clink of ice—the long sip.
The minute hand gathers the night.
The cat curls his tail around his body.

I challenge myself to a tournament
and lay the cards in formation, hour-by-
hour, in pale starlight—clock solitaire.

The cat closes his gold eyes.
I shuffle the cards and move closer to
darkness. The clink of ice. The cat purrs.

___________________                  

INSOMNIA XXV

Whisper of shadow in the dark,
the quiet death of indifference—

I shall retrace my steps, find  
what poured out into the dream.

Wing-flutter outside the window,
book of sorrow, origami sparrow.

I shall light my candle—hush of
memory, flick of light, the quick
of night.

 

 

 

 Night Fishing

INSOMNIA XXVII

the rent of time, the rendering,
arrangement of thought in a breath

the shape of the vowel, the cleft
of the consonant, the fraction of faith

the sliver of a second shivering the
cold inhale of the dark

_____________________        

INSOMNIA XXVIII

I will sleep tonight . . . is that the
moonlight . . . I move closer to the
window, swirl the tea leaves in my
cup. The cat steals onto my lap.
The beautiful nighttime.
           
_____________________

INSOMNIA XXIX   

The day passed like a train
just out of reach. It was vague

and quick, the sound bending
away from the curve of troubles

onto the slow sweep of the night,
into the candor of the dark.

 

 

 

 Drawing Closer

INSOMNIA XXXII

the usual day—the mumble of the
deadline, the tapestry of hard colors,
the collage of the wind chime and the
crying chorus of sirens in the traffic of
motion and consequence, and the glare

but now this broad canvas of stars,
unfailing and obedient—the turning of
halcyon lights in the vault of heaven

_____________________                

INSOMNIA XXXIII

as a child I read stories in the
afternoons and later they would
visit my dreams

the shuddering trees in the forest of
shadows, the birds in the light shaft with
seeds in their beaks—the bread crumbs
would vanish at the pass of their wings  

in the hours beyond the end of the
day, not the shadows of warning nor the
bright shaft of promise—I sharpen my
pencil and reach for my book—how I
twine my silvering hair

______________________

INSOMNIA XXXVI  

Shaping the curve of darkness
and tending the balance of force,

the night calls the day out for its
chaos and pulls the sun over the

horizon—there will be another shift
at the quick of morning.

I trim the wick and open my book.
The sky deepens.

 

 

 

I Never Dream

 

INSOMNIA LI  (51)

Poem out of the night hours,    
notebook at the gate—

chittering of birds, darkened woods,
morning far away, so little to say.

Maybe stay—fetch the fiery thought
that forged the catalyst for the cue     
and then faded before the page

was turned, before the pen was
lifted, before the night had fallen.
Even before the night.

______________________

Today’s LittleNip:

I've always envied people who sleep easily. Their brains must be cleaner, the floorboards of the skull well swept, all the little monsters closed up in a steamer trunk at the foot of the bed.

―David Benioff, City of Thieves

______________________

Many thanks to Robin Gale Odam for today’s poems from her "Insomnia" series (poems from which have been published in Brevities over 2017, 2018, 2019, and 2022), and for her fine photos to go with them. She sends word that her mother, Joyce Odam, is due to be discharged from rehab this week—good news!

Robin’s first photo is entitled, “Calling on Faith”, a reminder that last week’s Seed of the Week was “Faith”. Our new Seed of the Week is “Cats”. That should be an easy one; most people have plenty to say about cats. Send your poems, photos & artwork about this (or any other) subject to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though, and for a peek at our past ones, click on “Calliope’s Closet”, the link at the top of this column, for plenty of others to choose from. And see every Form Fiddlers’ Friday for poetry form challenges, including those of the Ekphrastic type.

_______________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

Can you find the cat…?
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy
of Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
(Remember—click to enlarge.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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