You startle awake to an unseen bird calling outside your window. It goes suddenly hah, hah,
like a crow but deeper, pitched to the range of a human voice.
hah,
in the morning, the paper squares of your hotel window are still dim.
As you break the surface of whatever dream you were in the middle of, it comes to you suddenly that you have left some of your belongings on the plane, a thin notebook
You struggle to recall the last thing you wrote
First night of jet lag
I lie awake listening
to the sleepless crows