when power failures
lead two down the hall
one holding tight a
tiny cherub fist
snuffing the fears of
monsters with a kiss
then with a puff of air
the candle wisps
into smoke and
the ink well of darkness
then soon the weary child
so gently slips
beneath grains of a Sandman's
sleepy grist
to sail on pillows billows
across dreams of innocence.
but as you leave
one tiny drop of wax
falls to the bed
and in a moonlight beams
hangs like a pearl tear
on the quilted seams
it gives you pause
for children without beds,
or food and love
who sleep on cardboard pads
and nightly
face the demons
that your darlings
never had.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
