A gentle weight on my feet woke me.
No possum hissed as I shifted.
Instead a nimble slide off the covers,
a thud on the cabin floor
louder than the mouse that caused a flurry
the night before--
probably the same raccoon
who explored our trash.
I longed to see this being,
craved its supple touch.
For hollow time I sought
the darkness for my visitor,
ephemeral as long ago in a dream
after reading The Decameron,
the Angel Gabriel came
to pass a rapturous night with me.
And as real.
About the Author: Born in Schaffhausen, Switzerland, Gaby Bedetti is a long time professor at Eastern Kentucky University. She wrote this poem while at the Appalachian Writers Workshop. Her poems have appeared in Off the Coast, The Voices Project, Ekphrastic Review, Lexington’s poetry blog (http://lexpomo.com/), and other places.