Election Night
I will close my eyes
for a day and cease
to be. No intrusion
of thought, not one
quaver or tremble,
nothing but a heart
tiptoeing in a chest.
I am through sacrificing
visions of auroras
to city light pollution.
Just let me be a body
wrapped in blankets
as heavy as wet sod
and send my gauzy
dreams to the silence
of distant constellations.
Dana Knott’s writing has recently appeared in The American Journal of Poetry,Ethel Zine, FERAL, Hyacinth Review,Parhelion, and Rejection Letters. Currently, she works as an academic library director in Ohio, and is the editor of tiny wren lit. You can follow her on Twitter at @dana_a_knott
Comments