My Morning Bird | 3.14.2021

For Quinn, at 4 years old

I hear you up there
while I’m down here.

Your little whispers fill the air,
replacing the waves of jazz
that brought me down here.

The sun rises over the ridge
and fills up the space around us…

Through the kitchen windows..
Then up the side of the house,
over the shed, and upward
to illuminate you..

Rolling around in the blankets
and pillows while your sister sleeps.
Head still half full of lingering
dreams.

What once was a fluffy fort
is now a nest of cuddle and wonder…

The cat is in there somewhere, but
you’re talking to the dog
and she is listening
intently.

Taking notes, maybe?

You’re going on and on
my storyteller; my imagineer.

And then “WHAT?!?”

You’ve woken your sister up.
The dog runs down the stairs..
She sits by me
as if to tell me everything..

You’ve gotten everything you’ve wanted.

And so have I.

Published by Ragged

Iā€™m here in the now, trying to experience life while living it...

One thought on “My Morning Bird | 3.14.2021

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