You move
Static beaten out by cries,
coughs,
sneezes.
I hear your fussing over the fan.
No white noise hides that away.
Up again to feed.
This time in bed.
But, you're hot
and uncomfortable-
fitful.
Hours stagger by
and I get you in your crib.
You grunt,
unhappy.
Rub your nose raw on the blanket
Unwillingly drift to sleep.
Up she comes-
Daddy, I'm done.
Come wipe me.
It's all over now.
Up and
down
and up
and
down
and a baggie from the kitchen
magically beside my pillow
the piano bench pulled out
what have you been doing out here
in the dark
by yourself
back to bed
tears and angry
I want the light on
NO
it's nighttime.
(but it's really almost seven)
Seven?
I hear your crying again
she's asleep,
but you're not.
hello, day.
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