Up early, still dark, the light
from the sun’s body still hasn’t
crested the edge of the horizon
I’m dressed, coffee in hand, just
waiting for the morning grey to
wash out the remaining black
of the night.
Any day now we could have twins,
Ames and Silas,
boys my wife dreamed of years
ago just now becoming a reality.
My wife, she’s asleep in the room,
having finally drifted into sleep after
another fitful night–the norm for all
of her pregnancies.
I stand in the bright kitchen holding my
coffee cup looking out the window
at the just now lightening sky.
I have to go to work.
On agenda for today: teach memoir
and grade one more set of essays.
My wife will stay home and grow
babies and love the other children.
She’ll spend hours just feeling the
boys kick and wrestle through the
thick membrane just beneath her skin.
- Insomniac Implication
- Ice Woods