Off into the sunset …

8.          Innocence

A dark-haired child,
Relaxed and breathing steadily,
Eyes closed,
Tousled head on the pillow,
Face in repose
Lit softly by the faint hall light
Filtering past the shadow
Watching from the door.

I’m sure my mother knew
I wasn’t really asleep,
And that tucked beneath the blankets
A torch and book awaited her departure
So that I could finish one more chapter,
Maybe two.

27 April 2013

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