the kids are in bed
and once again
the metamorphasis
the slow return to me
after the books
the stories
the laughter and bath time
between the shadows of what is said
and what lingers
shrugged shoulders
that carry a thousand words
hugs, tears and a few deliberate
punches among siblings
just to keep things straight
of course,
in the pecking order
beautiful blue eyes
finally glance inward
bring home their innocence
after the dishes are done
the food, the clothes, the remnants of the day
put away
piles of work pushed aside
to allow for something greater to come
here it is
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