Evening Blues

Another precious day is gone

and so fast.  Have I kissed his

sweet face enough, looked him 

in the eye, sang to him,

cradled him and soothed him

as he cried?

Another night is closing in

and I feel weepy again.

Ancestors draw near at this

hour but I miss their physical

presence - want to announce

his arrival down the line,

starting with my grandparents

Another restless night watching

for his little bird breath in his 

little bird chest. Loving having

him next to me and craving the

feeling of warm legs stretched out

into cool sheets. I stay curled

around him, always on high alert

for stray sheets and pillows that

could cover him.

We'll try and swaddle him, take him

into bed when he wriggles free, inevitably.

We'll change his outfit three times before

falling into fitful sleep. We'll make up

songs in the early hours and laugh as he

pees down the wall again, even if it is 3am.

every time I wake up I think;

"Is he mine? I have a baby. I grew him".

Each day is an anniversary of his,

another day growing fatter on

the milk that just flows, miraculously.

I don't want him to grow, I only want him

to grow. the two truths live together 

in my heart.