Heliotrope

I’ve tucked my worries into bed —
their toddler eyelids chasing night visions —
tucked in, with folded blankets, creased
both cat and mouse;
I’ve blown out the candles as,
with silent footfall,
I hushed each room
and let moonlight in.
I’ve folded the blankets over my chest,
thanked each cricket in their lullaby chorus,
thanked each star in its twinkling.
I’m not the first to breathe in thankfulness.