Widow's Lullaby at
Winter Quarters, 1846

by Edna S. Brown

Sleep, my little one -
Sleep while Mother dreams
of your comely smile
and your small hands cupping my heart;
of my completeness holding you;
the happy burden of your trust;
my pride in your unfolding;
the wonders meant for you
since our first touch.

Even here -
here in this wind-swept place,
this savage wilderness,
you have been my courage and my star.

Sleep my little one -
Sleep in your narrow bed
under your coverlet of prairie sod
and stones gently piled.
Sleep, while Mother dreams - and weeps -
walking the long, lonely miles ahead.

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