I.
The bed is small
The bed is small
though I’m glad there is one.
The blanket, thinso I bring a spare.
My head on the pillow(brought from home)
curves my frameinto silent prayer.
Some people say
God doesn’t give you
more than you can bear.
II.
I still remember how the bed felt
how I lay in it,
caving
I still remember how the bed felt
how I lay in it,
caving
towards one side—
chasing sleep
then how sleep chased me
(so often
we missed
each other)I remember how every detail
seemed designed to invoke
seemed designed to invoke
loneliness
(The Patron Saint
(The Patron Saint
of Calling);
The squeaky air vent the low tray table
where I ate soggy sandwiches
where I ate soggy sandwiches
between codes
injuries
deaths
and prayed for strength but
did not hear the other prayer
did not hear the other prayer
I prayed:
to be allowed a different purpose
than this.
