STILL NO SLEEP.

A FEMALE PATIENT ON A PSYCHIATRIC WARD IN 1971

The ward is still
and quiet.

Yiska slips
out of bed
and tiptoes
to the window
and looks out
at the coming dawn.

A few snores
and moans of sleep
are behind her
from the other beds.

She feels empty.

She wants something
to matter,
but nothing does,
not the dawn light,
not the other patients
in their beds,
not she herself.

A light filters through
the trees outside.

The sun is weak,
the moon is fading.

She pulls the nightgown
tight around her.

The carpeted floor
beneath her feet
is cold.

She feels tired,
but cannot sleep;
sleep seems elusive
as if
it were hiding
from her.

The night nurse
is in the small office
off the ward.

She is typing.

The tap tap
of her fingers
on the keys.

She hears the tap tap.

She wishes Baruch
was there.

He is asleep
in the men's ward.

Sometimes they meet
at this window
and watch
the dawn come.

Last time they talked
in hushed voices.

How are you?

Low.

Me, too.

Have you tried to hang
yourself recently?

No, not recently.

That caused panic
the last time.

I wasn't aware.

I was; nurses
running around
like headless chickens.

Baruch had smiled.

Didn't think
of consequences.

There are always
consequences.

He nodded at the window.

You slit
your wrists again?

She looked
at her bandaged wrists.

Yes, but did it wrong,
so they told me.

He stroked
her bandaged wrists
with his thumb gently.

Why?

Why what?

Why do it?

Same reason as you,
I guess.

Yes guess so.

Now her wrists
are unbandaged.

Baruch sleeps.

She is alone.

The nurse still taps.

Someone whimpers
in their dream.

The ward
is still and quiet.

She slips back along
to her bed
and lays there
counting sheep.

But still no sleep.

Reviews

[DoormanDan]

This poem is one of the most original I have ever read in both what it's about and how it combines both story and poetry elements into it. All in all, this is a very good poem. Great job!

[Terry Collett]

Thank you.