TURNING ON THE LIGHTS

A Poem

Nighttime Sky ©Hasna Muhammad

The house became a nursing station

when you got sick

Everything was

poised to cause your ease

I could not look at your wound

as I helped you bathe and change your clothes

Your audible pain closed my throat

and dropped

like wet clay

onto my heart

We both slept downstairs

because your movement

was more bearable on the couch

And I wanted to be able to see you

and hear you

just in case

Now you rest downstairs

while I turn on the lights

upstairs in my chambers

The lights have been out

for the past eight days

Since the time my life stilled

and your life took over

Now

Your blood is returning

Your body unfolding

Now

I pick up untangle move back

my life

where I left it

Without

all of this

and

I

turn on

all my lights

As I sit in the chair

near the window of my room

My breath

leaves my face

on a sigh

that travels across the room

down the stairs

Brushes past your check

and becomes a part

of the nighttime sky