Tonight you rest content to roam
within the small space we two
have spun. Home is a narrow room
you’ve backed into, head tucked tight.
“She feels safe that way,
look, there’s more room behind her,”
the doctor says as she ciphers light
from silent sound on the monitor.
But times are, I feel you
elbow out, reach beyond those lines,
stretching my longing point too.
Time soon will be, face to face
we’ll begin our divide. Then will
I remember this balance of roll
and righting? How easy it seemed
to carry you, by my side.
-me, February 19, 2003
Though truthfully I'm actually 23 weeks pregnant today. I meant to post this yesterday but fell asleep with Tuesday-ness. How's that for some news?
Dining out for Life
17 hours ago