Sleep Time

If I were a bird, I’d tuck my head

Under a wing when the west grew red.

And I’d lock my feet on a twig to stay,

And I’d go to sleep this funny way.

If I were a horse, I might stand all night

With my head bent low and my eyes closed tight.

And there I’d snooze and dream of oats

Or tender grass and apples and groats.

If I were a squirrel or a tiny mouse,

I’d curl up in a tree, a nest, or a house.

I’d tuck my head down, and there I’d stay

In drowsy sleep till the break of day.

If I were a wild thing of any kind,

I’d never miss, or ever mind,

That I had no pillow or soft warm bed

For rest and sleep after prayers are said.

But now I am glad to be just me,

And to sleep MY way—so cozily.