2008 September 13 poem: THREE FORTY-TWO AM

THREE FORTY-TWO AM

"Do you have anything to eat?" I
asked the night nurse, forgetting all my
Baby Bel cheeses in the bag in the drawer. She
poked around and came up with
some kind of splendid banana nut bar; meanwhile
I found the cheeses so it's hog heaven right now here in
Room 28. It's sort of like
tip-toeing down the back stairs to the kitchen in
Grandpa's house to find
leftover turkey in the ice box (yes, a real
ice box, back by the back door). Stolen riches,
unearned and all mine. Tonight I have to
chew slowly, on the left side - no molars on the
right any more - and I relish it all - still having teeth,
found feast I'd forgotten about, being sated in the
middle of the night. Persistence rewarded - imagine,
she first offered me
unsalted saltines! But the salt
has not lost its savor yet.