Lacunae

I wrote the following poem years ago, feeling very distant from my origins. Now I feel my origins within, but having revised this poem, am sharing it. When did I start awakening in the night afloat on a black velvet pool of soothing self-pity? Companioned by dream lovers father mother sister in starched shirts and dresses in rooms long emptied and even destroyed. So many heartbeats in the night so many different patterned breaths like fingerprints upon my tender senses. All dwindles with the dawn. But the first light cannot fill the gaping cavern widening within its center large enough for swallowing the sun. Copyright December 1995