The Night Without a Weapon

by Carolyn Adams

I turn out the light, turn

a shoulder to the darkness,

and wonder what will come.

A beast, a man,

a woman, a vehicle, a building?

And who will be driving?

Who, turning the page?

Silent air flows over the bed,

soft rain taps a finger

on the window.

A clock ticks

in another room.

Appliances hum on

and off in the kitchen.

I rehearse the day,

count errors, try to remember

the happy remark

of a friend, their loving touch,

the angle of the sun

in the late afternoon.

Tomorrow’s planes

stretch to all the angles

of the room, and I

drift. Awake at 10pm,

1am, 3am, I fluff the pillow,

adjust the cover, close my

eyes. And then it’s daylight.

Nothing happened. Nothing

came for me. Nothing

taught me a new lesson

in a fun-house classroom,

with a soft-eyed mammal

for a teacher.

* * * * *

Carolyn Adams’ poetry and art have appeared in Beatnik Cowboy, Willawaw Journal, Glass Mountain, San Pedro River Review, and Common Ground Review, among others. She has been nominated for a Pushcart prize, as well as for Best of the Net, and was a finalist for 2013 Poet Laureate of the city of Houston, TX. She is currently an associate editor for Mojave River Review. Having relocated from Houston, she now lives in Beaverton, OR.