At Home, In Bed, Awake, On My Side, Alone Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

Beside him, silent, stately,
on his right,
the old magician's
fair assistant stands alert,
yet selfless,
keeping out of sight
the trove of secret props
held in her hands.
Just so I'd like to think
you're guarding me.
I know you're watching,
fear you're judging too.
You are the first and last thing
that I see.
In darkness full of fear
I reach for you.
Just once I found unlocked
my father's drawer and spied
his potions, entertainments, aids
and shut it,
reassured, embarrassed, sore.
Those linger
even as his figure fades.
“Protect and comfort me.
I'll kill the light.
Good night, my night-stand,
standing guard.
Good night.”