When I’m alone, I listen to water.

My brother sleeps.

My dog sleeps. I am alone.

The moon is full, and the sky

is full of sleeping jets. I’m here

by myself, beloved, alone.

Time is running out. I sit

on the bed, alone, waiting.

It will come for me. Time will

not forget me, leave me.

It waits behind the door

until I’m alone. It sleeps

in the sink. Tick-tock,

it drips all night. Time hides

in shadows through the dappled

afternoon, sleeps and stretches

like a cat. I smell it in exhaust,

in fruit cut yesterday,

in my shampoo. I wait

by myself for time to emerge

from my dusty luggage, from

folded sheets, from long blades

of exhausted grass.

Kyle Kimberlin

August 30, 2004

2nd Draft November 11, 2004