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
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