229/365 - 232/365

12.28.10
—and for lunch today,
I warmed up left-over rice
with shredded salmon.
•
12.29.10
Unseen, I undress.
While on your side of the bed,
you mumble phrases.
•
12.30.10
As the baby sleeps,
contently stretched on my chest,
he smiles. Then breaks wind.
•
12.31.10
Midnight unfolds itself—both Ricky and the baby sleep quietly despite the roar of fireworks and the screams of rockets throwing themselves throughout the neighborhood.

Because of Brendan's presence I gain stronger resolve for 2011—I have more of a role to assert in the world, into the realms of poetry, into his world of words, language, milk, and life. With the possibilities of having a son achieved, nothing else is impossible.
•
Under greying skies
we trim back my hair outside
closing out the year.