Is He Breathing?

The silence startles me awake

In the darkness of night

Compelling me to slide out of bed.

My mind fills with dread

As I creep down the hall

holding my breath

Dragging one foot after the other

I can’t hear.

I can’t see.

My heart reaches up and chokes me

My shoulders join in.

When I finally I reach the door,

I freeze.

As I squeeze

And turn the nob.

Is he breathing?

Is he alive?

I scoot closer to his bed.

I bow down and listen.

Huhhh, I sigh.

Thank God I can hear it.

Air going in, air going out.

I step backwards

Out of our second son's room.

I creep further down the hall,

holding my breath,

Dragging one foot after the other.

One is alive

What about my other?

I poke my head into her room

Is she breathing?

Is she alive?

I scoot closer to her bed.

I bow down and listen.

Huhhh, I sigh.

Thank God I can hear it.

Air going in, air going out.

I step backwards out of her room

And I creep across the hall

holding my breath

Dragging one foot after the other

Two are alive,

What about our other?

I poke my head into the room

Dead silence

Tears drip, drip, drip

As the silence,

That dreadfully loud silence,

Shoves me against the wall

Wrapping it's tendrils

Around my throat,

Forcing me too admit

My other son breathes no more.