His side, mine, his clock that he checks in the night, my bottle of water, his eiderdown, my assortment of sheets, throws, towels, and nighties for the night sweats and the cold in between.
Drifting, my head on his shoulder, the puffing breath of his early sleep. We wake to kiss and say goodnight and turn away from each other into the cocoon of our sleep and the otherworld of our dreams.
he is running
in his sleep
his sudden snore
jolting awake —
the solitary call
of a mopoke
and just for fun, another iPad image: