A poem inspired by my firstborn son when he was just a baby. He is now 11 years old, looking more and more like a little man.
As I crept quietly
into your room,
I caught you smiling
in your sleep.
Two slits of blue
etched it seems into
your six month old face.
What are you dreaming of,
I find myself wondering.
What do you see?
Me?
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