I’ve glimpsed her at rest,
Be-robed on the sofa,
Less often in bed,
Head on arms at the cleared kitchen table,
Her face sleep-smoothed,
Yet alive with dreams.
Seemingly deeply away from us,
Yet more wakeful than a cat.
A car in the drive,
Padding feet,
In the bathroom at night,
A window screen loose,
A child’s moan;
And she arises to glide about the house,
A guardian apparition,
To set the night aright.
It is rare to catch her unawares,
To peep at her before she rouses,
From her restful, watchful,
Woman’s sleep.
Paula Lyons, MD
3/4/2003