Babysitting, Valentine’s Day

by Felix Jung

The child, exhausted by his sobbing, falls
slowly into dreams. The mother (a low, quiet
perfume) and the father (a thick, midnight
sweater) have long departed. The cats, equi-
distant from the couch, are curled around
themselves. I can barely hear the clock
ticking over the dull hum of the fridge. Somewhere
deep inside the walls, a furnace grumbles
from its slumber and breathes heat. The air
around me swells, tumbles, recedes. Outside,
cars amble by as the cats roll, stretch their paws,
and sigh. All around me, the world is sleeping while
lovers are strolling, arms entwined. I am alone,
sitting in this room of perfect stillness, blessed
to be the one who, in the midst of all this silence,
has been called to stand sentry, and bear witness.