Pulling the Curtains

The encircling mountains
harden into blue
then jagged black
as this high valley 
rolls away from the sun

as greens fade to gray
the feral cats on my porch
begin their slow walks
to wherever 
they will be
in the night

I undo the sashes holding
the curtains in their orderly halves
to draw them together
before the big picture windows

I’ve begun a habit of saying
Farewell and good night
to each day by its name and date
in honor of all the babies born
all things begun and ended

I want attention paid
even if it’s only mine

It brings nothing and no one back
soothes no one’s pain
even aggravates mine
to think of all the time 
I still waste each day
while so many others 
have been denied
my options

I name the day and bid it good night
then pull the curtains
I’ll keep doing this until I get it right
or a better idea.

From the forthcoming collection Nymphomagic Electroshock and Other Middle-Aged Complaints.
Copyright © 2019 by Lawrence Roy Aiken.