Poem

LULLABY


Awaking from

a hiking dream

(How green the woods!)

(but I digress)

– how dark the room.

I breathe a breath

and move the bed.

It also moves

from your breathing.

The morning air

from the window

whispers over

us who are warm

under covers.

Our female cat

kneads my pillow -

normally so

annoying, now

as soothing as

a cradle, and

rocking to the

same rhythm as

our drifting breaths.

I feel your warm

arm near me, and

another warmth

in my small back:

our other cat.

I move and he

adjusts to stay

close. How do I

not drift back to

deepest sleep, so

lulled by five soft

spirits breathing?