Lew Watts

Forty Years. . . Same Gray Doors

Don’t let the voices come to me at night 
he pleads with the wall over and over each day. 
Or, Keep ‘em silent ‘til the dog’s first bite, 
 
which makes no sense unless he means that shite 
of a nurse, the one who scoffs each time he says   
Don’t let the voices come to me at night, 
 
as if he can control his words. Despite 
the meds, he says he’s tried so hard to pray 
to keep ‘em silent ‘til the dog’s first bite, 
 
but nothing works, nothing works. A slight 
pause, then a cough, and off he goes again . . . 
Don’t let the voices come to me at night. 
 
As I leave, I tell him it will be all right 
if he can see the breath of stars—but will they 
keep ‘em silent ‘til the dog’s first bite? 
 
They won’t. I’m home, the curtains closed. The lights 
are on. They’re always on. Please, stay away . . . 
Don’t let the voices come for me tonight. 
Keep them silent ‘til the gin’s first bite. 

almost dark. . .
Mother calling us
from the woods

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About the Author

Lew Watts is the haibun co-editor of Frogpond and the author of Tick-Tock (Snapshot Press, 2019), a haibun collection that received an Honorable Mention in the Haiku Society of America’s 2020 Merit Book Awards. His publications include the novel Marcel Malone and the poetry collection Lessons for Tangueros. He lives in Chicago.