Sunday morning

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Mom was off to work by the time you woke,
and when our waking eyes met it was just us two.
Did you sleep well? Yes, your eyes answered.
Are you ready to greet the day? No, they whispered.
So we stayed there a bit longer, letting morning
fill our skin like plants greeting the sunshine
after the night’s darkness. I tickled, you wiggled,
I spoke, you answered with mumbles and peals
of that smooth voice I can only imagine and guess at.
The day was calling; we answered at our own pace.

(dtn)

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