On the wooded side of a small hotel,
facing east and down a slight hill,
she beds down with shades drawn
so that silhouettes of rustling
leaves may wake her.
Her nightlight reflects off the broad,
waxy rhododendron leaves and traces
outlines of the closest mountain
trees on moonless nights.
But the back bouncing light
keeps her neighbor awake, so he raps
on the thin wall between bedrooms,
where neither sleeps a wink.
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