little one

this poem is the result of watching a baby sleep and imagining how i'd feel about my own child.

f i n g e r s    u n f o l d i n g

like a budding flower

softly stretching petals, you

squeal,   t u r n    o v e r

i want to hold you tighter

than a 

s u m m e r    c l o u d .

your ribcage 

e    x    p    a    n    d    i    n    g

now, like a rubber band

stretching easily, contracting tightly

little spring coil

waiting to unfurl yourself

shaded in the colour of lovely

y o u    a r e    m y    o n l y .


The End

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