These Nights

I used to wake up
In the middle of the night
maybe once, to pee.

But now I’m awake
thinking about China and
children and Putin.

From the kitchen a
burglar or a new ice cube
makes a sudden noise.

I roll on my side
and close my eyes, pull covers
up close to my nose

and picture a cube
of new-born ice dropping with
a clunk in the tray.

Because when I wake
these nights, a burglar isn’t
my biggest worry.