Nap Interrupted - June 22, 2025

she can’t sleep and

wakes me as she

steps on my leg to

reach the bed’s edge

with a gentle lift, she

touches down on the carpet

almost seventeen now,

half blind, half deaf and

like a nursing home

resident, easily disoriented

I hear her lick water,

three tongues’ worth for

each breath, and open the

back door as she meanders

through shadows to pee

under the tipuana tree

back inside, I boost her

onto the sofa, in seconds

she’s asleep

loud lifelong snorer, it’s just

a hesitant whisper now,

a wind at the end of its run

and someday, on her final

exhale, I hope only the ear

of night hears it pass