Suspicious Sleep

RAE DALVEN

SUSPICIOUS SLEEP

Up there, at the edge of the sky, a little above the mountain,

a tiny little star shrieked out its happiness,

-in a voice both rhythmic and dissonant

like that of the small vegetable dealer who shrieks out the first

fruits of summer,

-in a voice so persistent, almost to seem desolate.

And you felt guilty for lacking the desire,

that you could not respond. At least not to have seen,

not to have understood. Guilty,

not reckoning the guilt of others. Alone by yourself you have

loaded

all responsibility on your shoulders. Then you understood

your utter innocence. You went into the house not to see any

more,

and dressed as you were and with your shoes on, you lay down

and went to sleep.