A poem for a Monday morning

I stumbled upon this poem early this morning.  I hadn’t read it in many many years – definitely had not read it since becoming a mom myself.  It made me smile.

My father did not live to see me become a mother, but reading poems like this make me feel like we can share in this parenting journey together – and enjoy those few precious moments of solitude (with a cup of fragrant tea!).

No Wife, No Kids, No Work

I wake alone
And throw my rested arms
Across the bed.
Not a sound in the house –
The floor is still asleep
Dreaming it is the ceiling.Opening and closing
My eye, I float for a long time,
Basking like a turtle
On the sea of late sunlight.
Later, wearing slippers
and a frayed blue robe,
I cook my breakfast.
In the sunlit, empty kitchen,
I feel like dancing
To the great silence.  With a fork
in one hand and a cup
Of fragrant tea in the other,
Restored to a separate
Life, I stand at the stove
And watch as the eggs
Fry wildly in the noisy butter.



best. dad. ever.

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