A poem

I've had more time to write poetry lately. Here's one of them.

Sweet Sleep

By Emilie Stigliani

Most likely where it all began.
In the hospital bed shortly after my birth
with Marie, Marisa and Claire Stigliani.

I have searched for sleep

On buses, trains

In cars and planes

Through fearful nights

When I left the lights bright

And checked the lock

Listening to tick-tock

Waiting for the sun

Which couldn’t come

Too soon

I have found sleep

In all shapes

The sweet “S”

Where a cinnabon dog

Curls in the crook of my knees

My polished teaspoon

Nested in another’s tablespoon

Under the silvery moon

The party-pooper corpse pose

On a crumb-covered sofa

To the lullaby of laughter

I sleep best

Not alone

Nuzzled and squeezed

The result of a family bed

Lie beside me