My Mother's Pillow

Just one look at it is all it takes. Awkward box of foam, hefty, knot city inside, square moon around.  Like a brick in your bed, a giant patch of cloth from an outlet store.  A grotesque form in four dimensions, a floating device for your dreams. The first night I laid my head on it right away I had a stiff neck, my back arched like a bow, my face crushed to its side.  I became a chiropractor’s dream. Ah, but for all that, the body adapts to anything.  Once I got used to its contorted form, my sleep came like a puppy in a litter.  It seemed like the pillow had calming powers, and a soothing touch, eyes closed, sleep came effortlessly to me. Groggy and surrendering to its magic, everything was calm and silent, suspended, like being hugged by my mother again.