I woke up with a spot of blood
over my eye. A scratch
halfway across my forehead.
But I’m sleeping alone these days.
Why on earth would a man raise his hand
against himself, even in sleep?
It’s this and similar questions
I’m trying to answer this morning.
As I study my face in the window.
(Raymond Carver)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Sleep Poems, Morning PoemsBased on Keywords: sleeping, questions, forehead, woke, study, scratch, similar, halfway