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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