|
{a play for insomnia} shanti perez he expects egrets will gather when it rains all night. the splatter of silkiness outside his bedroom window calls to their muscles and flight feathers. the slick seashell smells of their presence on the wrap-around porch signals dawn will soon drench that space blocked by cloud cover, between gathering condensation and the downpour that hammers away at the cement steps. and in this way he cannot sleep while watching shadows swell and slink along sheer curtains to the tip tap of rain, the lost drop here and there that hits his restless forehead through the open window. Egrets-- their shadows, Balinese Wayang, long necks push and pull, descendants of pterodactyl in white cloaks, visitors from somewhere-- the swamp, perhaps, stopping, maybe in the midst of their journey, to perform for him when he cannot sleep. |
