Poetry

Insomnia – Linda Pastan

I remember when my body

was a friend,

when sleep like a good dog

came when summoned.

The door to the future

had not started to shut,

and lying on my back

between cold sheets

did not feel

like a rehearsal.

Now what light is left

comes upโ€”a stain in the east,

and sleep, reluctant

as a busy doctor,

gives me a little

of its time.

fromย The Virginia Quarterly Review

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