|My baby cares for babies now.|
When they were babies, we would tuck them in and watch a movie together before bed. Now that one is taller than I am and the other is borrowing my clothes, we go to bed and then they watch a movie.
I served dinner at 4:30 this evening. (Early bird special, anyone?)
The bottom line is: we're all aging at an astonishing rate.
Here's a poem I wrote about watching my daughter grow before my eyes over the course of a 120-minute feature film.
Asleep on the couch next to your father
I watched you alternate between
from one breath
to the next.
On each inhale,
the curves of your face, convex,
shrink-wrapped the arch of your bones.
On each exhale,
you were swaddled in soft cheeks again.
What has grown before your very eyes? Are you tired? Want to answer one or both of these questions in the form of a poem? Share it with me in the comments. Thanks, and good night!