Mid-morning in a Strange Bed Again

I hear the sirens and I think
the birds have stopped
their wake-up call, but then
I listen and there it is, insistent,
the constant repetition,
the bird-clock chiming,
an undercurrent of time, three notes—
and if I really pay attention, another
answering through the noise
and swish of fronds brushing
each other in the soft breeze.

*

Muffler

I wake up, neck tight,
dream’s scarf
still encircling my throat.
I unwind it, feel my heart
breath returning,
dream receding, stepping back
into the alley of the night.

*

Betsy Mars is a prize-winning poet, photographer, and assistant editor at Gyroscope Review. Her poetry has been published in numerous journals and anthologies. Recent poems can be found in Minyan, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Sheila-Na-Gig, and Autumn Sky Poetry Daily. Her photos have appeared online and in print, including one which served as the Rattle Ekphrastic Challenge prompt in 2019. She has two books, Alinea, and her most recent, co-written with Alan Walowitz, In the Muddle of the Night. In addition, she also frequently collaborates with San Diego artist Judith Christensen, most recently on an installation entitled “Mapping Our Future Selves.”