Reverse Dalmation
Wrapped in pajamas and blankets
I am eating a tangerine
and turning the pages of Swift.
Music plays behind printed word
Voices down the hall pass my door
speaking of warmth and gentle light.
Abandoning my drowsy bed
I drop the peel into the trash
Before dressing for what comes next
Oh! Night so sharp it hurts my ears.
Flakes brush bare skin with shivery kiss
and tangle in my eyelashes.
When I return to Stevenson
I am a reverse dalmation--
white spots peppering a black coat.
My nose is cold.
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