Grey Bed Sheets

I close my eyes and see
my mother at my age, two
girls following close behind,
her with dark long lovely hair
and tired eyes.

There are a million small questions
that may not have a true or clear or
simple answer.

My sleep deprived brain
has to be reminded to
not wait for clarity –
just do
move
act,
the rest will come

later.

It is near but not yet daybreak.
I open the front door and walk
out into the dark. Tree frogs
hop wildly out of my way
as they too apparently
ventured out into
the damp night.

The simple is sacred
I see so clearly in the
quiet of the early morning
alone with my baby daughter.

We are as we should be
sleepy and smiling
together atop
grey bed sheets.

Soon to be published inย Switch (The Difference) Anthology by Kind of a Hurricane Press

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