Flotsam

Solar

For a year
I lived in the vestibule
Beneath a solar array
Tilted towards the sun. 
Plain shingles,
Dark panels.
I hid from light
In something that consumed it.

Two rooms,
Windowed,
Overlooking a fallow field
Flocked with dandelion fluff,
Timothy,
Asters,
Snow.
My footprints visible only in winter,
If I left.

Once
A cloud of fireflies manifested
Within the perfect darkness.
I strained my neck to glance out,
Holding my breath,
Waiting for them to be zapped,
Extinguished,
But they lingered.

That night I was
Yellow hot and feverish,
Dreaming I’d
Straddled the sun.
Cold water sizzled in my throat
The demons burned out of me,
Osmosis.
I left, cool, kicking dust from the field.

Sleepwalking

Johnny’s sleepwalking again.  He flits through the kitchen like a cold breeze.  Mama’s at the table, cigarette in one hand and cards in the other.  She’s staring at her coffee, wishing she had a third hand.  “Johnny,” she says, an observation.  He doesn’t look at any of us.  Papa guffaws and he and Mama share a glance.  Johnny reaches for the doorknob and I grab a coat and follow him outside.

The wind flattens his cotton pajamas against his chest and shins.  He’s skinny, and he should be cold, but maybe you can’t feel anything when you’re sleepwalking.  Mama says she used to do this all the time when she was his age and not to mind but I do.  Twins are supposed to do everything together, so that’s why I’m following, calling his name.

He lurches as he walks, trips on the cracks in the sidewalks.  Passerby titter away from him, knowing he’s not alright.  He lurches towards an open door and I grab his sleeve, almost disrobing him until the seam begins to tear and he bounces back and slams into me.  We walk a moment tangled up, two kids in a three-legged race.  Then he rights himself and begins to jog.  I try to catch him but he’s too fast.  A moment later, his blue pajamas blur into traffic.  I hear an engine screaming, am blinded by its headlights.  Johnny’s down in the middle of the road, quiet and bleeding.

Maybe I was wrong.  Maybe Johnny wasn’t sleepwalking again.