By Mike Smolarek

She sleeps

while I watch, waiting.

She always falls asleep before I do,

forgetting the day before I do

closing her eyes softly

sighing quietly as she sleeps

The cold wind

from the winter outside

cannot invade the tranquility

of the room inside.

I run my fingers across her cheek,

she slowly smiles,

dreaming,

I hope,

of me.