his back in the bathroom as my eyes adjust to the morning light, a kiss, a smile;
and the yawning hours, of day shutting and walls folding to sleep.
in the middle we are full of all the goings-on,
diapers folded, videos taken of Baby’s new word,
and dishes, always dishes.
he goes; i stay.
of course, there is
team Us! at the dinner hour, a formidable force.
team Us! at the bedtime hour, unvanquished.
but when Night comes tucking down her corners,
and disguised by sleep, the children take Pan’s hand,
we set about to hemming
the edges as our own.