When my day's drama
Is over,
I pull down blinds
As my closing curtain.
House lights flood
The frozen sky;
The moon spotlights
Nocturnals.
An analogue of sound begins
Its cacophonous chorus.
My ears prick
Cat-like
To the clicking metal stove;
Household motors
Hum in harmony.
My blankets shiver
Against the outside swirls.
The stairs, relieved of the day's weight,
Give rise,
And I imagine my ancient mother
Stepping lightly,
But not enough.
Hallway floorboards
Give her away;
Mouse-like hinges
Swing to a sliver of light
That lands on my lids,
The projection screen
Of memory
With the soundtrack,
'Lullaby of Night Sounds.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem