Would that
I
Were next to
Her,
Asleep so
Soft with
N'ere a
Stir; a
Hand held
Tight, a
Blanket
Clenched now
Loosens to a
Tiny
Pinch. A
Breath
Caught up
Is then
Released
As dreamt
Up joy
Succumbs to
Peace.
Lone cry,
Ears, perked
For infant's
State, fall
Back to
Bed, a
Silken
Slate.

rjw, 9/4/01


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