There is tiredness and there
is tiredness and there is
They wrap each other in blankets
near the fence by the fire and
lay down, faces framed by stars.
One says, Can’t we go swimming
tomorrow? but she is silenced
by another who watches the fire.
Can’t sleep. The others know
how she feels. They sigh and turn
over to opposite sides and nod
off somehow—the mechanism
was never explained to them.
She wishes it had been, as she
watches the fire
over the hours as it ages
grows tired of itself
settles slowly into a red heat
like an animal. She looks
at the unforgiving stars
and thinks about howling.