An Ordinary Sleep
I saw the spinning wheel
and wanted to play it,
wrap my arms around its spokes
like a harp.
Later, I felt
a tickle on my arm –
strand of hair
or an ant up my sleeve.
I dreamt of houses with warped
blue shutters, ivy tentacled
across eaves.
I lay half-awake
a long time. The room
close and hot. Thirsty.
Thirsty. It was summer
when I slept and summer
again when I woke.