Led love liquidates me,

the puff of your stomach

as you slumber.


He took a picture of us


in the morning.

Your face is a mirror

of mine.


They call you lean and

oh so observant

as you wobble on my shoulder.


I can’t believe how much you are mine.

Summer is Fading

We have outlasted the sun – 

you and I. 

The raucous cooing of the birds

begins later and later. 

Sometimes we’re even back in bed

before the dawn. 


I think fondly of those early days –

a pale orange sky,

and a symphony of song birds

as we learned how to care 

for you. 

I mark your growth against the colors of the sky. 


Three in a row, we lie

squished into the middle

of our queen bed.


His heart thumps against my back,

a rhythmic reminder of his consistency,

the anchor in both calm and rocky waters.


My heart echoes in your ear,

the only familiar sound.

It links you to me

and coaxes

you to sleep.


Your heart faces out, races

faster than ours, beating

the path ahead

for our little family

of three.


You are turning us into zombies,

sleep deprived monsters that curse

the plink

of the paci on the mattress.

We know your cries will follow.


We created you.


You have trained me

to give in earlier and earlier,

sneaking you

into bed so we can cuddle

and steal

an hour or two more of sleep.


You created me.


We snort as you rear back,

milk spraying in your face.

I guide you back so you

can guzzle

and drift asleep again.


We created each other.

Halfway Through

The more moms I meet,

the more a familiar drumbeat:

“Staying home was nearly my defeat.”


Caught in a web of desires and needs,

balancing caretaker with feelings of greed

for wanting to be at work, still taking the lead.


Twelve weeks in and I’m finally learning how

to function as mom and pause in the now.

But soon our days together will take their final bow.


I will return to work, and you’ll go to meet new friends.

The thought of time away makes my heart bend –

partly excited, partly destroyed as my maternity leave comes to an end.