Untitled #21

I look at you
as you sleep
in the wicker bed
where so many children
have slept before
my best friend's
little daughter
your breath is like warm waves
with the smell of fragrant
chamomile blossoms and of milk
it fills the whole house
your dream
passes on to me
so quiet, so peaceful
could there be
an angel
bending over you - with
golden transparent wings
somewhat like a dragonfly's
you grow in your sleep
too quickly, too fast
I think of nothing
I just keep looking
at a sleeping child
only a child
could
perhaps
make peace
between me and the world