Baby Dear

I hold him at night
and sometimes pretend
it's every one of my babies
because I ache for each and every one
of those tiny bodies
warm against my heart
nuzzling those soft jawlines
again and for always.

Oh the sweet days past.

But really,
I am so tired.
It's the middle of the night, for heaven's sake
and
to do it again
would be utterly exhausting.

what a lovely paradox a baby brings to the night time.