Insomnia

This was the pantoum I started at the conference. That I’ve been working on since.

I hear the paleness of the moon, sounds of scurry.
I wonder about the dreams of trees,
the meandering river, sleepless, wending, weaving,
the sinewing of a body tight with worry.

I wonder about the dreams of trees.
An applause of leaves repletes the recurring story,
the sinewing of a body tight with worry.
I float the anxious sons and daughters.

An applause of leaves repletes the recurring story.
In lavender fields of flagrant amputation,
I float the anxious sons and daughters.
An awareness that hunts and forages

on the knife edge of sedge grass and wildflowers,
in the lavender fields of flagrant amputation.
Night jams the agitating paddle of my heart.
An awareness that hunts and forages

on the knife edge of sedge grass and wildflowers.
I hear the paleness of the moon, sounds of scurry.
Night jams the agitating paddle of my heart—
the meandering river, sleepless, wending, weaving.