Lullabys

The sound of rain,

or wind,

or crickets,

or quiet cars

is perfect chatter to talk my ears to sleep.

Odysseys of long days and sore feet,

particularly breaking backs.

Tales of tricky battles on well trodden ground.

Loves had and lives lost —

simply gossip of the day.

And into the air we whisper wanders

of when and where we lost it all.

Yet even with such subtle words,

each night they send me on.

So in the sound of rain,

or wind,

or crickets,

or quiet cars,

on worldly tales, I shall drift off.