I perch near my light
infused window,
soak up afternoon warmth,
and pretend not to worry.
They know where to find me --
bouncing back like yo-yos
to seek tear-filled sympathy,
to share triumphs with a kiss.
No more babies to
cradle in this little nest;
the strings have
lengthened.
Fretting over heartbeats,
first breaths, unsteady steps,
wobbly friendships,
chronic self-doubt...
each fragile phase interwoven
with uneasiness and relief.
I sit at my perch and pretend --
it is now as habitual as breathing.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment