at 8pm
my wife
takes my son
to bed
she changes
his diapers,

puts his pajamas on,
then calls out
to me

“Goodnight, Daddy!”

“Here I come,”
I say

and I roll off
my chair
head down the hall
and enter his bedroom

there’s a big lump
beneath his blankets

“Where’s Alex?”
I say

“I don’t know,”
she says

“I guess we can finally
take that trip
to Europe,”
I say

“Finally,”
she says

and then I dive
onto the bed
reach under the covers
and tickle him

he pops up,
squirming,

laughing,
smiling
she gives him

two doses of melatonin,
then I hug him

“Goodnight,”
I say

“Goodnight,”
he says

“I love you,”
I say

“I love you,”
he says

“See you tomorrow,”
I say

“See you tomorrow,”
he says

and I close the door

if we’ve had a good night
he’ll jump out of bed,
lay down at the door,
and slip his fingers
underneath

and they wiggle
out there
waiting to be touched

that’s when
I lay down too,
extend my fingers

let him know
he’s not alone

no,
never alone