Naps

Afternoon naps end like water
balloons slapped against the street
—you can’t put it all back in.
Laying on the couch wondering
why I said—they weren’t so bad,
in fact I’m usually very proud;
but there it was, and cannot be
unsaid. The globe spins slightly
and I rustle in the blanket;
the room is empty when I wake
and too quiet.

July 2019