Something that sounded like the town
plow just went by: there must be snow.

What was it I fell asleep thinking
while the shutters strained on their hooks
in the wind, and the window frames
creaked as they do when it’s terribly cold,
and getting colder fast? I pulled
the covers over my head.

Now through lace curtains I can see
the huge Wolf Moon going down,
and soon the sky will lighten, turning
first gray, then pink, then blue…

How frightened I was as a child, waking
at Grandma’s, though I saw
that the animal about to pounce
—a dreadful, vaguely organized beast—
was really the sewing machine.

Now the dresser reclaims visibility,
and yesterday’s clothes cohere
humpbacked and headless on the chair.