To wake into this night silence
when the wind has dropped
and everything is aftermath and dark
– this is the dream they spoke about,
this is belated, vanished clean away
into the sleep of a child.
I had forgotten how quietly
a baby’s skin alters in starlight.
When morning comes two hours from now
he will seem like a different child –
one having flown through open skies
to alight here in the first cries of the day.