The Naked Limbs

           You told me that you’d read,

                And were struck by

                That night in bed,

A sermon on the naked limbs that lie

                Inside your soul,

           And as you told me so,

Our youngest son, whose loud voice cried, rushed

           Usurpingly to climb

Inside our sheets and quilt, with soaked pyjamas

                Stripped just in time,

And tears as suddenly stopped and hushed

      As those of laments and psalms are.

      He mumbles to your heart in bed:

You will lay him down when he is quieted.