Goodnight

Lying in bed and waiting to find out Whatever is going to happen: the window shade Making its slightest sound as the night wind, Outside, in the night, breathes quietly on it; It is parental hovering over the infantile; Something like that; it is like being a baby, And over the sleep of the baby there is a father, Or mother, breathing, hovering; the streetlight light In the nighttime branches breathing quietly too; Altering; realtering; it is the body breathing; The crib of knowing: something about what the day Will bring; and something about what the night will hold, Safely, at least for the rest of the night, I pray.