To what degree may this poem be confessional—explain what is being confessed in Carolyn Kizer's "Night Sounds."

To the best of my ability (and based upon the way this
poem speaks to me personally), the confessional nature of Carolyn's
Kizer's poem seems quite strong in "Night Sounds." Often when we hear the word
"confession," we think of someone referring to something criminal; confessional may make
some readers think of "confession" in church, still accompanied with the sense that what
is being spoken of is about is of dire importance. My sense of this poem is
not that the speaker has done something wrong—unless it be
perceived that way by her ex-lover. The nature of the speaker's confession is simply
that she has not been able to move on: she still misses the man who is no longer with
her: and her loss is not for one night, but permanent when she says, "Living alone
now..."

We can assume it is a man she writes about—with the
phrase "heavy, impassive back." We may also assume that the relationship was never good,
perhaps was really one-sided: the speaker had to "coax" this man to hold her; he was
never "able to lie quite peacefully at my side..." and "Always withholding something."
The speaker goes on to describe what it was like as he tried to take his leave of her,
believing she was asleep:

readability="13">

Awake before morning, restless and
uneasy,

Trying not to disturb me, you would leave my
bed

While I lay there rigidly, feigning
sleep.

Words that allow us to
find a confession of sadness and loneliness are found in the phases, the images,
below:

readability="7">

Moonlight keeps me awake...A child weeping at
nightmares...Everything tinged by terror or nostalgia...impersonal desolation...chills
the spirit..., and ...feigning
sleep.

The moonlight that has
kept her awake, is now more chilling to the speaker than the light of day: perhaps she
sees in the moonlight as a constant reminder of his departure and her loneliness. The
reality of daylight is not as "cold / As a full cup of
moonlight."

Addressing him with "you," the speaker is
telling this departed lover how she is feeling; if she had to "coax" him to hold her,
and if he was "[a]lways withholding something," her words will seem a confession of
sorts in that he never really let her into his heart, and so we can expect that her
confession would not be a welcome bit of news for the man who has left her, seemingly
never connected to our speaker in any way other than that of a physical
nature.