Thursday, January 29, 2009

Number One

Thursday, January 29

(Because it will help me pay attention. Because there is a lot to pay attention to. Because writing needn’t be so lonely, maybe.)

This morning the baby falls in and out of sleep. Her waking looks like falling – both arms suddenly outflung to catch a branch, swing herself back up. Her falling looks like sinking, her weight gathers like something liquid in my arms. Her head slides from my shoulder to collarbone, presses in. Her breaths are so tiny, little hummingbird, slight rising and falling I am learning to trust will continue even without my watching. And then a great gasp, a grumbling. Her hands at her face, her spine arched, face reddening with the stretch. And then sinking again. She sleeps like something under the sea. Her heart: that tiny machine, red engine the size (is it?) of a plum.

1 comment:

  1. Welcome, mother of plum-hearted red engine love. The cyberworld has been waiting for you! Xo.