October 2020
Bio Note: I live in Berkeley, California where I have been teaching meditation to children in my
community for fifteen-years. I am a multiple Pushcart Prize and Best Of The Net nominee, and the author of nine
books of poetry.
Ordinary Insomnia
On nights of rain and after,
then, before the rain, again,
Earth is sliding away
This is not grief, but the purging,
this is not the end
but a muddy beginning
and it’s not the sparrows with their
common songs, nor the children,
like wind flying on swings
it’s the passing of time
with its unknown shuttle
and the rain’s naked belly
with wet winter eyes
Earth is an aging woman
with ordinary insomnia
and the sky is locked around it
like a birdcage
making me feel the need to fly
by calling out
beyond the stars, as though a miracle
like a token, waiting to be used
so I can flee
no matter how, no matter where
©2020 DAH
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