Ann Keiffer


Sometimes when I can’t get to sleep
and my body is full of unnamed tension,
I get up in the dark to stretch.
I lie down on my back
in the ribbons of moonlight
that slip in through open shutters
and turn the coiling of my mind
to e x t e n d i n g the tight muscles
in the backs of my thighs
…and r e a c h i n g o u t as far as I can
with my arms and hands above my head,
…and d r a w i n g circles in the air
with my toes and ankles,
…and r o t a t i n g my head and neck
slowly from left to right,
…and l e a n i n g my hips and knees
slowly from this side to that.
A soft, muffled thump—
the kitty jumping
down from the chair
where he has been sleeping—
and I feel the silky slip of his fur
as he brushes companionably
up the full length of me.
I cannot see his shape in the dark
but his creamy, angora-soft fur
is lit aglow by the moonlight,
revealing a nimbus, a wonder,
an aura of platinum.
To be awake to the moment!
…in the dark
or in the light.

Ann Keiffer
September, 2019

Image credit: Digital collage by Ann Keiffer


About Ann

I am interested in the strange beauty of brokenness, in transforming possibility in difficult times, in how we heal even when we can’t get better, in the alchemy of surrender, in the interplay of light and shadow, in the bounty of everyday wonders, in the gift of laughter…and writing about it, all and everything.

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