Morning Sounds

It's 9:30 in the morning

and I've just reheated 

the same cup of coffee 

for the third time.

I am in the baby's room

with it’s colorful decorations and wall murals

with my once-again-hot-coffee and notebook.

She's fallen back to sleep 
after having breakfast
and a wonderfull playtime session

where we made each other smile
with our chants of "goo-goo"

as I marveled at the thought 

that babies really do say "goo-goo"

and at three months 

she is really becoming quite good at it.

Now 

I can sit quietly 

and listen.

Outside her window

it's raining from a dark grey sky,

trees moan at the wind's command 

to give up helpless leaves,

house gutters make their rain dance

in metallic rhythm,

wet car tires on wet roads

swish people off to work.

Inside her window,

baby breathing sounds

undisturbed
by a loud banging

like some friendly dragon in the attic

whipping it's great tail 

to wake up the old heater
and keep the baby warm,

and the dog snoring at my feet

because he also decided 

it was a good morning

to go back to bed after breakfast 

and some quick relief

in the backyard rain.

Everyone asleep, not to be disturbed

by the sounds of a perfect morning

to be on the inside of the window

in the baby's room.

The coffee is cold again.

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   November 2013