Good Night in the Blanket Fort
Karen Craigo
A promise has me sleeping
in the blanket fort, quilts piled
on hardwood, pillows stacked high.
The walls protect us from the blue night;
the boy's breath, mine, rise to pitch.
I want to be brave in here, he says,
but what I like is company.
And I am fearless that way,
as we send invisible smoke signals
up to the boundless canopy,
brave, so brave together.