nothing is real at 4 a.m. but coyotes
I didn’t know we had here. they make noise.
nothing else does.
my breath makes smoke. the air
makes smoke
against my breath.
winter comes at 4 a.m. when the neighbors
are asleep, a sigh
the only sign of life. only sometimes.
I don’t sigh. I make no noise—
(the way it should be)
do faces change
when light goes out?
do you recognize me in the dark?
do eyes become holes, do mouths
become holes,
is my head a black hole
because of the dark?
when the light goes on
the neighbors will stir, make noise.
coyotes will retreat
from where they don’t belong.
it remains unknown
whether eyes will return to eyes.