The Spy who loved me

She knelt by the bed and said a
prayer, to herself-something she
does most nights, when she gets
home late in the evening;
I wake with her, both tired of trying
to sleep, the buzzing of intruders
the alarm clock, the nightlight,the
hum of something not right;
I look at her with a spy glance, I
picture her, and leave me a snap-
shot, for later-but I am good, I
store it in my heart;
The days of lonely, and restless
nights are over, and the job is
almost done-our boss, is not your
boss, and on the phone, says,
"Leave this one alone"
I give her a hug-and we share a
moment in common, but away we
go, into the same world, but on
a different mission.

D.E.M.-04