They were all asleep under their waterproof,
bearproof lid, only an occasional twitch
or grimace hinted at nightmare, or loose fist
hinted at hate. Not even the earliest robin
had noticed the streak of dull gray across
the east. The nurses tiptoed through
the wards, pouring water into the vases
of white lilacs, laying light blankets
over bare shoulders. One nurse, pulling
a curtain shut, noticed how white
the birches stood against the gray fog,
how the black crows gathered under the window.
At six o’clock, a nurse brought powedered
corn flakes. One patient lifted the curtain
and saw a dim rabbit, but the nurse coaxed
her back to bed. By noon the fog had not
lifted, and no one was awake.