In this early morning
I am awakened.
Not by sound,
but the absence thereof.
My eyes become fogged
and digital digits
become clearer;
more defined.
"It is five fifty-three"
I mumble through
a mouth of paste;
and feel for my spouse.
The realization that
I am on the couch;
not in my bed
does surprise, momentarily.
As sudden as heartbreak
I remember why
I sleep on the sofa.
My wife needs sleep.
So I am on Maddy Duty.
But once again
there is sheer silence.
No movement, no cries.
It has been seven hours
since she last
had her fill.
Why did she not wake me?
Am I that tired?
Did I sleep through her wails?
I start, upright,
and wrench my back.
I peer in the darkness.
It is several breathless
minutes (of my own)
before I see her chest rise; fall.
It is then that I smile.
The infant, my child,
now seventy-one days,
has slept through the night.
Author notes
This is more of a poetic journal entry. My little Maddy made it through the night.
A contest entry
- 203;203;203;203 ;203;203;&# 8203;​ ;;​;​ by xxlisajazminexx.
780 points, ended December 26, 2008, 13 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
No need to comment. Just happy!
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
That was an amazing poem. You did wonderful, I can see now why you won gold and I won bronze! B-e-a-utiful!
-
wow... this had me from beginning to end... an exceptional write....
-
aww how sweet
kinda of terrifying when you don't hear any cries in the night huh...but then a sigh of relief when you realize they were sleeping (the whole night through)
-
I really liked the mystery of this poem, which begins with the title. From there the reader is taken on a journey-story, from why silence is a bad thing, to why you're on the couch, and then that heart-stopping moment when we wait to see Maddy's chest rise and fall. Even though you consider this more of a "poetic journal entry" you've still kept so many of the qualities that make poetry what it is. Emotion, imagery...it's all here.
Congrats on this milestone of your daughter's, and best wishes for all the beautiful moments and achievements yet to come.
~J. -
I can feel it
Definitley I know of the fear in watching for your lil Maddy to breath to some significance. A few years ago, my little brother lost his 7 month old baby boy to SIDS. Funerals are bad enough as is but to see that tiny little casket just tore at the core of my heart. I could only imagine the pain he and his wife must have felt.
The situation, the story, the fear, and the relief are all well intact in this poem from fog into clear just like the digital digits you wrote of. Journal style or no, this is a real life moment to never forget, wonderfully captured in the photo album of poetry.
-
beautiful. You actually gave me
a lump in my throat. You are a
wonderful father...I can tell, and
it's good to know this about you.
Love, Lane
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
