Sometimes at Night

Sometimes at night when I put myself to sleep
between soft green sheets, beneath wedding quilt
my grandmother made from my childhood dresses,
I remember that I am one phone away call from terror.

Sometimes at night when I put myself to sleep
in my book-lined nest, clean, safe, fed on blueberries,
I cry for women lying awake in refugee camps,
war zones, hospital rooms, hovels, hospices.

Sometimes at night when I put myself to sleep,
expecting to wake to work I love, family that loves me,
bead work to finish, letters to write, books just opened,
I remember to cherish each of my very finite, blessings.
Victoria hendricks, September 2, 2008