The phone goes off at 2:06 AM
She darts out of our bed into the rainy night
An hour at most she says
A hospice patient on the other side of town
She thinks I worry about her when she's out on these calls
Doing the work that makes others squirm
But my worries begin when I hear the car door close
Her shoes kicked off by the door
Her quiet shuffle back towards the bed
Because I know that eyes that have seen that much anguish
Need a lot more than sleep to feel rested
Though I surround her with tenderness and warmth
I cannot protect her from what she'll see when the phone goes off again