My boy asks me tonight, Is it still light
somewhere? I tell him, Yes, the other side
of Earth is in the sun. I lay beside
him on the bed. He curls his thin limbs tight
to mine. But mom, what if the sun goes out?
What good is logic in the night? The bones
want something warm and near, well known—
stiff facts alone cannot ease nagging doubt.
My love, I tell him, if the sun is gone
then I’ll still be here with you. And I trace
his cheekbones with my thumbs until the hushed
luff of his breath subsides to sleep. O yawn
of knowledge, pompous truth, the night’s no place
for you. O sun, please rise. O dawn, come soon.