How many more days do we have like this?
On Motherhood: Tell me the days turn into years.
I write this in my head while I rock you in the quiet fading light. »»
The sky was gold when you fell asleep. Your little body relaxing into mine, getting heavier with every breath. Two hours have passed and you still have yet to stir.
Peaceful. Content. Home.
The words swirl around my head as I listen to the soft sounds of the rocking chair against the …