the night watch

It is two something in the a.m.

There is nothing sleepy about me.

I make a quick walk through the house to find two boys asleep in the living room.

How do they sneak down the steps so stealthily?

I check all the others – the drifters and the non-drifters.

And these slumbering heads and hearts are full and innocent and heavy and beautiful and I would sever my own arm to create a world while they slept that is infinitely better and less painful and they could wake up and smile and imagine the last year as a terrible nightmare that a little eye rubbing and back patting could neatly erase.