This night I sleep like
a migrating bird,

one hemisphere lowered
out of body, the other

roaming dark streets –
the high-rise where

the recycling center
used to be,

People’s Park, still
peopled and tarped against

the University’s reign –
and both halves collide

when my eyes open,
arguing who got more

as morning brings a
storm and a hummingbird

clinging to the red
feeder, weighing less

than a marshmallow,
but more than a raindrop.