“I can turn on the light of the lamp beside my chair
where a book is waiting, but that’s about it”
I climb head first into the open book.
I could be hunting with my friends
or dead reckoning my way up a mountain
bristling with hemlock and pine, or leaping
from a plane with my parachute ready to deploy.
I could be digging a trench on the moon.
There may be water on Mars, ice locked
in the moons of Saturn and Jupiter,
or on meteors hurtling through the galaxy.
Even here we know there is life without heat,
without light. Maybe I could swim with the mad
girl all the way to Cuba. Today was ice and wind,
a cell phone that wouldn’t connect. It took me two
hours to get to work. I locked myself out of my car
and stomped around dreaming of water, waiting for May.