Being There

I can recall my son’s sleepy hair

soft from his blanket in early mornings

and  warm where I press my hand

as he twitches lightly  in a dream –

but I was there. I was there.

baby

Advertisements

Leave a comment about this post

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.