
Nick Patten © 2008 All Rights Reserved
Dream Aubade
Not the familiar hours
in the snooze’s seven minutes.School is cancelled
due to
snow. Not the phone:It rings,
it’s work:don’t come in
Hanging up, burrowing in.
we don’t need you
Not the exam with no clothes
on, the one in Russian
don’t come in all weekor Greek. Like them both,
only
you were there.
In the half-light
between alarms I sawyour body:
familiar,
beloved. My bed a question.And the fit answer
you
made there, on the blue book
of my sheets.
Jill McDonough’s work has appeared in Slate, the Threepenny Review, and the Nation. Her first book of poems, Habeas Corpus, fifty sonnets about executions in American history, is forthcoming from Salt Publishing. She’s a Stegner Fellow in Poetry at Stanford University.