A Child's Vigil

The stillness of her sleeping form outlined against my bedroom wall. The feather tic tossed in restless sleep Blocked my access underneath for the doll, I sought to comfort me. As I crept across the floor. Our breath attuned in synchronous wafts Vaporous, but quiet, scattered moonbeams’ shadowy show of late-night lessor lights aided my misadventure. Silver light through ice-covered glass traced gentle reflections on the floor. Some shadows zigzagged toward the doorway, Some streaked to where I had searched before. The cloudless frigid full moon night warned me to wait elsewhere. Everything was much too bright mirrored against the snow. Should anyone care to look I was where I was not to be. But I could not, would not leave. I sought time and healing And awaited mystery and magic. I was the guard by the gate, The silent witness on the wall No harm would befall any that night. My fervent childhood prayers Left all safe within. Defiantly, with intent I sought no softer bed. My will alone would hold her there heal her that night. My childhood eyes grew weary as my attention waned. Slipping slowly to the floor, I wrapped my toes snugly in the feather tic. And watched the silver winter moon. The last adventure one last trip around my tiny room. Sometime during that frigid night I must have fallen into a deep sleep. My treasure was taken from my guard. They must have been so quiet when they found me sleeping on the floor? Wrapped up within the feather tic; Underneath, yet close enough the greatest treasure I was blessed to know. 09/16/2019