Far off cornered around
this too-big world, I shake
and shiver under a pile
of blankets. Abstracted
and vaporous, my mother’s
hand rests on my forehead.
The kettle whistles, a hot bath
fills and steams, and my soft
warm bed is too far away
on this lonely distant night.
My stomach bites, my skin
tremors, and home is far
away, far too far away tonight.