Keep by your Bed

Keep a glass of water by your bed.
I do this, though I rarely drink
and days later I find dust and cat hair
settling in, or I catch my cat dipping
a paw, as if the glass is by his bed.

Keep a book you read by your bed.
I have a stack of half-read books:
I know how the biography ends;
I never want the mystery to be solved;
I hope the lovers never find or fuck each other.

Keep an extra blanket by your bed.
Near the end of winter nights are piled
high with every extra blanket, sleeping
is a tropical vacation.
Then Spring pushes Winter aside.
I fold the blankets one by one,
reach them onto the top shelf,
extra again.