Thanks

In bunk beds stacked in two
The older climbs the stairs,
While the baby snuggles you.
The one on top combs her hair,
While the baby on the bottom bed
Decides she doesn’t want to sleep there.
She wants to sleep on the top instead.

She climbs the stairs to get away,
But we’re determined to get our way.
“Stop. You need to come here,” we say.
“Get to bed. It’s getting late.”
She just laughs that we’re so irate.
We reach and reach till she’s in our grasp.
She kicks and screams and with one last gasp,
Asks of all things for a hug and kiss.
We sigh and can’t help but feel remiss
That she’s asked for this.

We hold her close and press lips.
She finally wriggles her hips
To get free,
And we want three?
I can’t imagine playing zone
Defense against this many
Or watching a third alone.
We sigh now that they’re all in bed.
Finally it’s dark in our home.
It’s one more night to give thanks
And pray the two in our ranks
Will also one day do the same,
And in the meantime keep us both sane.

Posted in Perspective, Poem for Your Day, Poetry