Cradling the Moment

I watch his sleeping face

In the seat next to mine

Leaning on the window of the plane

Pimples and their traces on forehead

A thin line of hair on upper lip

Few strands hanging from the chin


A foot taller than me

Now he reaches

The topmost shelves

Opens the tightest jar lids

But is too proud to ask for help


How I miss

Gathering him

Pecking his cheek

Tousling his hair

Tugging him along


And then he stirs

Rolls his head

Onto my shoulder

My heart explodes

But I hold very still

Stop my fingers

From combing his hair


I just cradle the moment

My baby resting

On my shoulder again

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