Four Fifteen

I have known this night.

I know what time the streets closed
And sent their mad jokers wandering home
Or down to the parking garage
To sleep in huddled clots;
I know how many car alarms
Scolded, pulsing, insulted, and when
The sirens soured on Tenth,
Although not why;

I know when
My husband flapped the sheets
And my mother's air mattress creaked
In the tepid hour
Of unstirred air stifling dreams,
And when my daughter
Whimpered in her sleep,
Although not why;

I can tell you when
The trucks heaved up to rumble on,
Just before today's dawn slit
The thick-wrapped bolt of night
And through the rip
The first bird flung
Its song.