At 2:20 a.m.
Sometimes it's hard to see
Both sides of the story
Thick with irony

My bright blonde boy is
   scared of that
   one low roll of rumble
Thunder reminds me
   of his vulnerability
The pitter patter
   of the rain
   keeps time
As I trudge up and down the stairs
   to tuck
   and reassure
He won't need me forever

At 4:22 a.m.
The creaks and groans
Of an aging home
Amplify
My lucid dreams
Danger all around me
In my subconscious scape

On the edge of
   half-awake
   dark shadows
   rouse me
Too alert now
   wandering from room to room
   checking the locks
My fortress is secure

The pitter patter
   of the rain
   a sweet refrain