Sunday Night Shift
       

There's something about the dark
holding us together I can't stop imagining

as the skeleton of God, like we've found
meaning in the scaffolding, even if no heart,

mapping the bones of the ribcage, puzzle boxes
like shape sorters, a place where everything

fits. How often I feel alone, winter greening
into spring on the cottonwood outside my window

& the sky shading grays or blues, lighter
or darker for weather & earth's circling

dance around the sun. Does it matter the colors
are blind spots?

                          One winter night the sky reflecting snow
I saw further into the city than any night before

it was white with light, rooftops shining
as if we were living in a snow globe & the world

were still. It was a miracle, that light.
For hours you were skidding on the ice

& nearly couldn't make it up the hill toward home.
The nightshift was long, the ground thick with it

what allowed me, through darkness, to see.

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Copyright © 2017 Jennifer Givhan All rights reserved
from Lifeline
Glass Poetry Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission