If tonight is the night, Lord let it be a cool one with lunar breezes lifting me to a place just high enough to look down and get a little queasy at the height of what I’ve endured. Let it be a quiet night for cats, even the orange ones, who never seem to need a reason to howl, but rather let me pass so peacefully from this world that even the whiskers of my bedfellow are not disturbed. Let the street be still, oh Lord, when I slip through my front door’s keyhole and join the June mist gathering above the grass, and on the blades of the windshield wipers. Let it be a mercy, Lord, a merciful sigh please lord please and not a desperate choking gurgling gasp. Lord grant my bedtime story the dignity of an end, and my lullaby a harmony to match.