Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Day 12: Whatever Tickles Your Fancy

Sticky little fingers twisting into my beard.
Chubby brown arms wrapped around my neck.

"Please Nathan?"

He could easily fall asleep, if he'd just lay down.
But I surrender.

He releases me from his hug and I stand up.

I walk him to his room and pull his covers back so he can crawl into bed, then tuck them back snugly under his chin.

I pull a chair into the bedroom doorway and have a seat, clear my throat, and begin to hum.
Somewhere in my low, gravely voice he finds a place where no one gets hurt. Never.
A place where no one calls him names.
And where it doesn't matter that his mom is in prison.

And its in this place he drifts asleep.

And I drift away to another place, too.
To a place where all that matters is these five children feeling safe and secure.
A place where the chaos comes to an end.

Drifting.

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