At bedtime

That time again –

when we close the blinds,

the book,

our eyes,

and lie together on the bed.

 

You drink your last milk feed,

as I drink you in, nose to head –

sweet baby smell

of just-washed-hair –

and all I do

is stare

and stare

 

and stare.

 

And when you’re full,

you smile at Slumber

with half-closed eyes,

and I lift a sleepy you

through to your cot.

I have forgotten what life was like

when you weren’t there;

when my evenings must have had

a you-shaped hole

but of this I couldn’t know.

 

And so, as another evening is unfurled,

(with one arm slung around

your rabbit dear)

you sigh a goodnight to the world.

 

Sleep soundly, little one.