A prayer for bedtime.

Now I lay me down to rest,
My covers pulled up o'er my breast.
But by the time the clock strikes two
All my parts will be in view.

'Cause in the throes of the midnight sweats,
Most my parts get sopping wet.
So I pull my shirt up o'er my head;
I ditch the quilt; my clothes I shed.

I would not want my friends to see
what middle age has done to me--
When I'm so hot I do not care
what sticks out when or hangs out where.

Please, Lord, don't let me die this way,
To be found thus, the next new day,
With all exposed, and thus on view,
With nothing left to misconstrue.

I beg you, Lord, when I must go,
Give me time to adjust my clothes.
Before my last breathe takes its leave
and I'm left out for all to see.

photo, Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Yale University