5 years old

and on a pallet in a dark room

but the sound of voices

in the kitchen

keeps him up

listening to them

laughing, talking

having such a good time

such a comforting sound

the sound of people enjoying

each others kinship

each others company

 

his eyes get heavy

sleep comes over him

like a soft blanket

he knows he is safe

secure in the hum of those voices

comforting him

like white noise

or the trickle of a creek

his pillow becomes a cloud

on which he slowly drifts away

the sound of those voices

rocking him gently

off to sleep.