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Mornings
For a while, I would sneak down early
Start my day mindfully
Just some quiet time before the day begins.
Sometimes 15 minutes. Sometimes an hour.
I knew how to minute the creaks.
Step on the first.
Skip the second.
Around the landing.
Two steps, then skip.
Quiet the rest of the way.
Silence was mine.
And then you got older.
Or the clocks changed.
I’d hear a hushed “Dad’s up.”
Before I even hit the landing.
By the time I reached the couch I’d hear your descending pattern.
No skipped steps.
All thumps.
I’d curse myself for feeling disappointed.
I try not to let on.
As we sit together on the couch.
Still mindful
Just a different practice.
Comments
4 responses to “Mornings”
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A moment laid honestly illustrated, as all change must. Lovely.
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Thanks, Joe – hope you’re well.
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Taylor,
Have you ever read the poem The Children’s Hour by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow? Google it. Your poem brought back memories of my favorite poem. Thank you. Nice work! ❤️-
What a wonderful poem – I hadn’t read that one before. Thank you for telling me about it!
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