*After reading Mary Oliver’s "Roses" from her 2015 collection, Felicity*
I Woke Up
by Joan Myles
I woke up last night needing something.
My fingers and toes tingled
and I thought “I need to be sleeping.”
A dull haze of dreaming
nudged me ever out of myself
even as I kept insisting-
“I need to rest.
Need the words to step back a bit,
to quiet their humming if they must crowd my pillow.”
Later, in the midst of writing,
I still needed something
and declared “I need a storm.”
Outside the wind strained to move,
creaked through the fence, stumbled
over garden stones.
“Come on,” I urged from the open window,
“whip the clous into froth
and rattle the bones of houses.”
Here at my desk, consciousness
shines through your soft laughter: “…we are
just now entirely busy being roses."