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5
years old
and on a pallet in a dark room
but the sound of voices
in the kitchen
keeps him up
listening to them
laughing, talking
having such a good time
such a comforting sound
the sound of people enjoying
each others kinship
each others company
his eyes get heavy
sleep comes over him
like a soft blanket
he knows he is safe
secure in the hum of those voices
comforting him
like white noise
or the trickle of a creek
his pillow becomes a cloud
on which he slowly drifts away
the sound of those voices
rocking him gently
off to sleep.
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