The Wee Hours of Awe
In The Wee Hours Of Awe
It is said that One needs references
When faced with weal and especially woe
If nothing else to compare
Weal has taken the form of my wife and infant daughter
And in these rare moments of the Wee hours of Awe
I watched my wife, eighteen months removed from becoming a mother
Bone tired, her petite body breathlessly meandering…
Bee-stinged-lips pouting in slumber
Tickling my sleep-deprived eyes
And there was my daughter screaming
Searching for her pacifier (binky) and after securing it
Then lying on her stomach, butt in the air so to feel her navel
It is these moments of the wee hours of awe I shall reference
When she’s in her terrible twos… when she’s a teenager
When she brings home God-forbid that scum-bag
Saying mom, dad, this is my boyfriend…
Her name is Jael
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