Raymond Clevie Carver - The Scratch

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 Clevie Carver

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-scratch/