Baby Morning

March sun, swaddled
in a receiving blanket of clouds
dreams a newborn promise.
It’s already 9:30
but no one has had breakfast
except the dog.
He lies beside me on the couch
his side moving
in the rocking rhythm of sleep.
Sweet silence is rippled
only by padding footsteps
the upstairs swish of a flush
and the tick, tick, tick of the clock.
Tuesday morning dozes
while baby naps.

This was the scene about three years ago at my daughter’s house. We were there to welcome her brand new son (our first grandson) and help out wherever we could. I couldn’t help but notice how schedules were trumped by the new babe. When he slept everyone else had permission to sleep too — because very soon he would be awake again and commanding the house from his bassinet with each  sturdy a-wah a-wah.

This poem is linked to One Shot Wednesday where you will find lots more poetry from the One Stop Poetry community.

10 thoughts on “Baby Morning”

  1. The time of birth is a time of great and cherished joy…and indeed one of trying times for sleep schedules all around! A lovely image of newborn life put before us here, and what it means to those eager eyes surrounding it – thank you for sharing this moment with us, as well as the image of your grandson!


  2. This is so cute – your poem and the photo. I can thoroughly relate. My husband and I were also present during our grandson’s firt days. He was a tyrant.


  3. Awww…how absolutely SWEET and adorable is that!!
    You have written this so beautifully, my friend… thank you ever so much for sharing this one with us..


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