Darling, I’d like to write you beautiful poems
after your long awaited arrival
and the desperate relief of the moment
you came slipping out like a selkie
from the waters inside
and beached yourself on my belly….
But right now I’m in such a happy bubble
that all I can think of is silly mama speak
you little pink piglet sweetie pie flower bud
baby blossom wonderful one
You are warm
You are safe
You are here
You are here
You are here
at almost seven weeks
you have just the faint feathery beginnings
of eyelashes beginning to show
extravagent delicacy
decorating your face with tiny blond wisps
as if your wide open baby blue eyes
weren’t wondrous enough
Just when lights go out
you open your eyes
and decide it’s time
for a midnight stroll.
We saunter about the kitchen
as you stare out from the blanket bundle
with your little wise old elf face.
You wrinkle your tiny forehead
and furrow your almost invisible eyebrows,
looking about quizzically as you ponder some deep truth
until the rapid flutter of your tongue
through pursed lips reveals your babyness
phantom nursing…
You were just spacing out
and daydreaming of milk after all.
Just East Of Crazy Land 