It’s two hours before dawn,
  and I’ve slept through the night

The rarest occurrence,
  but her footsteps come light

She let me sleep soundly,
  and she let me dream free

Before entering my bedroom
  and calling to me

"Kurt, it’s Laura, she whispered,
   as she got into bed

"Are you happy in the solitude
   alone in your head

"Your spirit’s been truant
   but its voice I recalled

"Wake up from your sleep
   and follow me down the hall

"I’ve something to show you,
   so rub out your eyes

"And see what you looked like
   as a boy about five"

She led me straight down
  to the end of the hall

The door was half open
  and my voice I heard call

“Aunt Laura, my crayons
  have broken again

“Aunt Laura, get ready
    I’ve new words to begin

“The ones that you left me,
    I now know by heart

“And to Mother and Father
   I recited each part”

The boy smiled at her,
  and she smiled back at him

Before walking me back down
  to my room deep within

“I’ve always been with you,
  you know it so clear

“As your Muse I’ve been charged
  with your care all these years

“You were young when I met you
   and took you by hand

“Then to never abandon
   your voice as a man

“Your days may come easy,
   and your days may come hard

“But each night I’ll return
  —with new words from afar”

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)