To My Mom

I remember
when I was little
my mom would always
cover me up
before bed.
I would lie down
on my twin bed mattress
and wait for first the sheet-
white cotton
with bright flowers
and purple butterflies-
then the fluffy comforter,
red and pink and green,
so thick and heavy
with all the safety of
homely comforts.
And I never wanted
to get out until morning,
for then would the spell
be lost,
and no one could ever
recreate the snug closeness
of a few blankets
and a pillow
like my mom,
least of all
myself.
So would I fall asleep
in that warm, close
hug from heaven,
delivered
by my one childhood idol,
and dream
in childish
bliss.