Asleep

Before I go any further, I just want to say that I am not a poet. I don't ordinarily write poetry and don't in fact even like to read poetry unless it's written like a story. But I have noticed that when my sons sleep, their little faces look just like they did when they were babies. And a few weeks ago, while I was lying beside them as they fell asleep, this poem came to me without even really thinking about it. I got up and grabbed my notebook and started writing and very few words changed from what I thought during those moments when their faces magically changed from six and seven years old to six and seven days old. So here goes.


Asleep

When he's asleep
His face is the same
As it was so long ago.

When he's asleep
I see the one
That I cradled in my arms for hours.

When he's asleep
His face looks just like the one
I studied those first few days.

When he's asleep
He's my baby again.
Not loose teeth and
Two wheeler bikes and
Video games and
Size 2 shoes.

When he's asleep.