Not Soon Enough


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.