I remember days when I awakened
thinking nothing much changed
in my world except these whiskers,
the calendar and clock,
once I closed my eyes in hope
of escaping what had.
One night I cast aside my covers,
with old Mollie’s assistance,
and walked into the autumn air.
Out in our lonely space, she asked
me to open my eyes to the night,
turn my head just so, and listen to
the earth turn, see it roll beneath
those curtains drawn across the firmament.
A tap on my shoulder affirmed her lesson.
The leaves still fall even while we sleep.

– Joseph Hetch

© 2014, poem, Joseph Hetch, All rights reserved