In silence I wait, in stillness watch
to discern the movement of darkness
sifting through the window,
sliding across the floor.
I listen for rain on the roof,
the susurrus sound of wind in the trees
through their glistening autumn leaves.
I await familiar sounds of night –
the whistle of a train and its rumble on the tracks,
a siren moaning in its coming and its going,
the dull delirium of clanging steeple bells
to tell me of saints and seasons,
to chime again and again that all will be well.

This night, the whistles and sirens fade
to the chirp of a cricket, just one,
sounding out alone in the darkness –
All will be well.  All will be well.

Portland, Oregon – October 19, 2017