Night Terrors

(A Poem for Hilary)

You were the child of the night terrors,

not regularly, but often enough to scare me

with your uncontrolled, unstoppable crying,

terrorizing screams in the night, as if possessed

by something haunting you, this unexplained alarm.

So we’d wander the house, you and me, a tiny,

unconsolable body carried in my arms, looking

behind the curtains and inside the closets and corners

of the room, seeking light there, assuring ourselves

no one, no thing was hiding in the darkness,

a dance we did those nights to a music only we

could hear, holding tight to each other until it stopped

and your head flopped onto my shoulder,

your soft snores quiet in my ear, consoled.

 

So I tucked you back into your little bed, secured

you under the blankets and returned the little bear

to his place in your arms, and took myself back

to my own room, lying awake under the covers,

my own night terrors continuing, wondering

if you were safe, if we were safe, you and I,

just as I do even now, wondering what terrors

you face still, wandering your own rooms,

looking behind curtains and doors, perhaps

inconsolable in the distance where you live.