the ceiling had a painting on it
in our room in France
so we were living underneath
some angels in a dance
and so we went to bed
my husband was not feeling well
he woke up complaining
of an aching in his head
that one by one the old and young
had come through our room that night
he said a hundred people
asked if he was all right
one by one the old and young
lined up to touch his hand
he spent the night explaining
they had come to the wrong man
when we asked her the next day
with coffee and a magazine
the concierge was less than helpful
we went to the desk to pay
"what happened in that room?" he asked
"a death or something strange?"
and returned to him his change
she smiled at him politely
and this will be a mystery,
why none appeared to me?
well, what I'd like to know
is with all the people in that room
when we sleep so close together that
our hair becomes entwined
I must have missed that moment
in the gateway to his mind