I got up out of bed putting on my slippers,
worn down through the years, to see what all that sound was for.
Haley was dead asleep holding tight to the pillow.

Her head kept jerkin and I remember
Mary sayin that people who ****** in there sleep was havin a bad dream.
So I laid my hand on her head
and stroked it soft
like how Mary did it to us,
and watched as she quieted down.

Again I heard the noises
and slipped out into the dark hallway to figure out what was going on.
I was always curious to know why he made those noises when he was with Mary.

I leaned against the doorway,
half hiding behind the post to get a look.
The grainy texture of the post underneath my fingers
made me careful about catchin any splinters in my fingers like usual.

Daddy was on top of Mary,
sayin out mamas name softly,
moving up and down on top of her with his eyes closed,
I could tell cause
I couldn’t see the whites of his eyes
or the redness of ‘em
seeing how he was drunk and all,
while Mary laid under him, her hand over her mouth crying.

Those tears so much like the summer rains
rolled down her cheek
catching the light of the moon
just like they did on the blades of grass.

I didn’t know what was happening,
but I knew Mary didn’t like it.

Daddy, not knowing I was there,
asked Mary in a husky voice,
scarcely above a harsh whisper,
if she didn’t like it,
and how he could remember
her speaking out to him on there wedding night
and such.