Women My Age

Diane Hosey

Women my age wake at three am

Excited, fearful, wondering

We hear our names called out

A child who needs us is crying

Until we remember

our children left home or never came home or were never born.

 

Women my age wake at three am

Sweating, bodies and spirits running hot then cold

Our hips ache, our backs are sore, our calves are clenched our jaws are locked

We push away from our snoring partners with bladders full and urgent

And navigate through thick darkness to the toilet

Sometimes close by

Sometimes down the hall

Sometimes outside

Or in a can in the corner.

 

Afterwards we fix tea or long for water and we are listening deeply for the mystery of the night

We look up at the golden African moon which has called us out , called us out to shed our skins and dance

 

Women my age at three am are dancing this planet home.

 

 

 

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