For a Few Years Before You Got Sick

In the desert, your 3am
Used to be good for getting up
Going outside, looking at stars.

There were planets and pinprick streaks
Of shooting stars, occasional
Satellite trains, the running lights

Of a couple of red-eye flights.
You had caffeine and a blanket
Against the katabatic breeze—

Crickets often, some coyotes
Bursting with their high-pitched yipping
Here and there in the steep canyons.

One of the tourist restaurants
Might host a delivery truck.
Otherwise, there was no traffic,

Maybe some mule deer crossing town.
You chanted poems, your own mostly,
And then you listened quietly

Before heading inside to read news,
More poetry, do some writing,
Fix some breakfast, and it was day.