She Said to Me
The difference between the lived life and the slept life
is not the chipped ivory picture frame hung—or not hung—on the wall,
or choosing to bring home the periwinkle bra
instead of the white one—
The difference is a quality of attention. The difference
is always knowing where Death is. Misplace death,
and the ants in your kitchen matter, you’ll care
that there are crumbs in your child’s bed, her hair
needs a trim, and your socks don’t match.
The slept life dithers on in a kind of otherly-
centered attention like a Viking compass, a lode stone afloat
in a bowl on a boat, bobbing directional yet directionless,
personally landless, othering othering—
The slept life repels like North to North, retells like
your lover’s favorite story, unspells like a malaprop
you chose only because it rhymes.
Well, if that’s the difference
between the slept life and the lived life, I asked her,
Have we misplaced Death, or Laughter?
a selection from Verse Daily (August 14, 2023)
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Author: The Best American Poetry
