Every night, an old woman
crawls into bed with me
though I don’t remember
inviting her.
I deny her resemblance
to someone I used to know.
She wraps ropey arms
around my pillow and
wakes me at midnight
to help her stumble
down the hall to pee.
She prods in provocative ways,
kindles lusty longings
then mocks my fantasy
of liaisons with lovers
from my long ago.
I struggle to shake her grip–
a finger-bending battle
that twists my thumbs
into grotesque shapes.
She presses cross-stitch on my cheek,
weaves silver through my hair,
tucks pads around my waist,
reshapes me as I sleep.
In dim morning light
she inspects her work,
gives me a wink.
I smile…and she’s gone.
Lee Darling is a retired computer programmer. In 2011, she published a novel, Just Out of Reach. She’s a member of the Red Couch Poetry group in Eugene, Oregon. For more information, go to scatteredbumps.blogspot.com.
Erica Goss served as Poet Laureate of Los Gatos, California from 2013-2016. She is the…
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