Sleeping In Nana's Bed

Sleeping In Nana’s day concludes in glory beyond the forest wall suspended on a whippoorwill’s song a muffled out board glides the narrows past Hick’s farm humming its sated fisher home somewhere a screen door slams crack, into the gather of night sharp contrast to settled sounds of dusk while cow bells soft metallic clang echoes the way home for lowing milky cattle, through the wood fire in the next room hisses greedily welcome to another meal of logs a briar pipe taps staccato on the granite hearth now click lit to quiet drawing sound the old daybed creaks from seated weight a coffee cup thunks down upon the arm nightly news rustles into place outside again, the bullfrogs begin their baritone calls a hungry raccoon chitters on the shore then loons begin their plaintive calls to distant cold faced stars as wind brings a hushing of the night each sound gathers to me a cottage lullaby rest safe and warm drifting off to sleep in Nana’s bed.