Mares Of The Night

Bed
Softly lit
To illuminate the
Silent figure.

Toes
Over the edge
To skim the soft
woven rug.

Hair
Curling so soft
To frame the
Face of pain.

Tears
On a coverlet meant
To rustle and slip
Between fingers.

Dreams
Obscuring reality
To the strains
of a fading violin.

Moonlight
Dripped lazily
To chase away
The darkness.

Whispers
Soothing swells
To rock and lull
My child to sleep.