Insomnia

This is a poem I wrote for my husband

Insomnia

Floating between wake and sleep
forces me to contemplate
our illuminated blinds
as my husband slumbers.
A worn quilt draped on bare shoulders--
I borrow his insomnia
for the night.
A narrow view
between the blind slats
only reveals neighbor’s lights
left on and
a yellowed street light
with a hazy mask.
Curiosity drags me across
frigid tiles to a tall frosted
glass door in our kitchen,
to make further observation.

Sheets of combed snow lay calm
after noon’s north winds.
Flat. White.
Illuminated by an undiscovered
light source.
The moon hidden behind
high white clouds
unable to contain its light—
Creating a band of blue
laced through the horizon,
ultramarine, natural neon lighting,
unexplained illumination.