NOT EVEN THE MOON GIVES ITS MUTE CONCERN

by Stellasue Lee


That noise is my cell phone alert.
The security camera shows two men
working the keypad at our garage door,

the door starting to open, the garage
beginning to brim with light and I
can’t find the speaker to say anything,

can’t shriek at the intruders, scream
I see what you are doing and I’m calling
the police, but I can’t remember how to dial

911, or who to call for reinforcement.
Fragments of the dream tear through
my bedroom. Night returns wearing

a black shawl. There is no moon,
nothing but neon numbers on a clock
that glow into the silent morning

reproachfully, 2:57 AM.
I leave our bed, walk in darkness
to the bathroom. Cold water rushes

from a faucet, flows through my fingers
until I gather courage enough to bring
a handful up to my face. I think about

those men, how to describe them to police,
how they should be charged with breaking
and entering my dreams. Who are they?

I return to bed to escape the mortuary cold.


* * * * *

Stellasue Lee was a founding editor of RATTLE, a poetry journal, and is now editor Emerita. Two of her books have been entrants for the Pulitzer Prize, Firecracker Red, and Crossing the Double Yellow Line. Her latest publication is New & Selected Poems, Queen of Jacks, available on Amazon or her website: stellasuelee.com. Dr. Lee was winner of the grand prize of Poetry To Aide Humanity in 2013 by Al Falah in Malaysia. She now teaches privately. Dr. Lee received her Ph.D. from Honolulu University. She was born in the year of the dragon.