Light my Nights

I find
the sound of your tiny snores
ease my darkest nights.

A profile
of long lashes
and bits of polished sky–
bits of me.
But I couldn’t be
this beautiful.

I want to hold you
like in the days
when you despaired whenever
you couldn’t hear
my heart,
but you’re older now.
And no toddler–or man
saves pride in being held
by his mother.
That is the privilege
of a wife.

But, tonight,
this night,
your snores are still small.
Little hands.
Crib walls.
Fuzzy blankets.
Teddy bears.

But what child
will light my nights
when you are gone?

Gone,
with your own set
of little
snores.

Your own little set
of heartbreaks.