He sleeps soundly on my bed

Wrapped tightly in the heavy cloud blanket

That settles around him with the

Comfortable weight of an old friend

Sweat dampened hair clings

To his forehead

While he clutches a pillow

In its rumpled navy blue case

Close to his torso

As if it was a child

In need of his protection

His breath passes over his pale full lips

Deep, even and rhythmic

Soft like the puff of a breeze

Over empty grassy fields

And his eyes

Closed to the world

Flit and shift behind

Exhaustion darkened lids

As I watch him sleeping, dreaming

Quiet and peaceful, lying alone

On my creaky wooden bed