You don't see me in the night,
My ears pricked for every sound I hear
In the dark, like a stag poised for flight,
And my conscience seeing surgery,
Each sound a cut to my ear.
Guarding your thoughts with my warmth,
Enclosing you with my poised embrace
In the dark, barely breathing by your ear,
And waiting for night to end
Its careless gentle march
Before your breath must cease.
Staying up til morning to see you safe,
Knowing you won't see me standing over you
In the dark, fighting the sickness with my eye,
And hand gently stroking your hair
Until our fragile bodies fade
And your wishful dreams hold true.
For all those brave and tragic souls who care, or have cared, for a dying loved one.
