Getting between the dark hours
to own a moment of quiet others fear
is a practice of mine.
Sometimes the moving in is easy;
Sometimes the blackness presses hard on my softness.
But always I get there,
pulling the hours around me
Close.
And they go soft,
Deep and slow in their darkness
Until I own their temporality
And outspace them by the minute.

Roberta “Bobby” Santlofer (1943-2020) was a mother of sons, an avid reader, and a poet. A posthumous collection of her poetry is forthcoming.