I've been incubating this poem for a long time... years, I think. The impulse I describe at the beginning was a real sensation that took place as I awoke each morning. I felt like someone, or something, was near me... breathing or sighing. I could hear it, but I could not sense it in any other way. It happened for a while, and then it didn't. I can't explain it more than that.
After a while the idea came to me that I'm working on in this poem. This week I decided to play with it again, and I sense it coming along. To be honest, I'm still changing a word here and there. But, I just read that Donald Hall would write and rewrite his poems 100 or more times... so who knows... maybe I'll start all over again.