sounds of the city rattle
my sleep: as revelers laugh
into the night and distant
fireworks sound like shots
in the dark; fierce semis tear up
the interstate; scavengers forage
in the black garden, and night-raptors
court beneath a cloud-fringed moon;
nearby rustle: coons desperate in the cold
scramble into the cave of my crawl-space;
sleep: precious and elusive my place
in the dark: lonely
and not lonely enough.
Cordelia Hanemann, a writer and artist in Raleigh, NC, has published in Southwest Review, Connecticut River Review, and Laurel Review; anthologies, The Well-Versed Reader, Heron Clan IV and Kakalak 2017 and in her own chapbook, Through a Glass Darkly. Recently featured poet for Negative Capability Press and The Alexandria Quarterly, she is now working on a first novel, about her roots in Cajun Louisiana.