to know the time

it is the dark hour again
and I am up, eyes wide

how tired I am yet
sleep is not with me

sometimes life is too large
to hold, and the weight

shifts the quilt
off-balance in the dark

despite comfort and a night
light, and all my

world a park with trees and
flowers - there are gales tonight

and the rain did not stop
batters the thick eighteen-

nineties walls;  how quietly
my heart calls-out

in my special room, where is
my sewing machine, where are

all my books and pictures:
a life lived and laid down

in such a strange place
with no family, no connection

except the stone with the names -
love soft as dew lies with them

if they only knew me now
and I could be who I was then

lighter, happier, bonnier
with no disdain

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