Something stirs within me,
something lifts my head from the pillow,
and I lie awake
feeling like I’ve forgotten to do something,
or I’m late,
or I’ve left something behind,
but I just can’t put my finger on
what it is that has woken me up.

Silver moonlight shines through the window
and casts blurred shadows
in the room
and in my mind.
Cold settles into my bones,
but this vague feeling of unease
is so persistent
that I get out of bed anyway
and look around,
listening for something,
anything to explain my concern,
but the silence that night
is covered in goose down
or six inches of new-fallen snow
that quiets every noise.

I wonder then if someone I know
is in pain
and they are reaching out to me
in ways that we do not understand,
and that even though I don’t get the message,
I know something is wrong.
I lay my head back down on the pillow
and pull the blankets close.
Will I remember this feeling in the morning?
Doubtful.
I drift off to sleep.