The night is hot, the air is dense
Tempers flare as emotions tense
I keep my cool, he loses it
He yells and screams and throws a fit
Why not!? Why now!? Why must he go!?
He looks for things that he might throw
I wait until he’s all worn down
Then tuck him in without a sound
He drifts off, my hand on his head
It’s his first night in his own bed
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

is this a memory?
ReplyDeleteNot a memory, just an imagining.
ReplyDelete