Hit by a cold
like a ton of bricks
two weeks before Christmas.
Squinting at the Christmas lights
(thank God they’re already up)
through my sleepy mole eyes,
I try to nap while the kids watch a show.
My toddler gives me the play by play:
“Dere’s a weindeer, mama, and a bid, bid spider.
He’s not the bad guy, he’s the bad guy, riiiiight?”
Wrapped in blankets,
I’m trying to keep from falling
off this little donkey
that is life.
Trying to keep riding along,
over the dips and bumps
in that ancient little path
Keeping company with that young girl
full of wonder,
wrapped in starlit silence,
riding that little dusky mule