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Poetry doesn’t take as long…sometimes

It Works

Soaking up the quiet night

I listen to my babies breathe.

I should sleep with them, but I can’t resist

breathing-in this moment.

So many things compete for

my attention, my eyes, my touch.

I relish these moments of sole-

soul searching.

My family, my husband, my life.. nothing is more a part of me, nothing I’d rather give my life to. My time to.

But I need to re-energize.

I wish I could get this

with all of them around.

But I can’t, and I laugh at how ironic life is.

What else can I do?
Crying is the alternative.

Tomorrow I will be frustrated with

how little I can accomplish.

And seconds later my heart will melt

at the reality of how much I love my children

when I’m helping Clare get dressed.

Because that’s how it works.

That’s how this works.

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