Go at the six, turning, the nap stretches to 90 minutes, go at the six, turning, the garden gate left open open onto the grassy lane where the cats gather in the morning, evening, cat hour, a mysterious thing, go at the six, the neighbour, the happiness and candour, well the child mirrors, the child’s glee fills us, and the child mirrors, if you think so, so, so while tasks gather under leaves, the child sleeps, and you’d say what else is more important, and the and the emails gather and a new press is invented in the time it takes to pour a cold coffee onto the sofa while the child is sleeping and the rocking chair creaks a steady rhythm as we recall yesterday’s dream. . . a shopping centre, a gathering spot. . .
A feeling in the chest named euphoria named love that expands and does not contract that wants to expand the gliding of the rocking chair here we are I am typing into the light while the child sleeps and the cupboard in the next room has spilled onto the floor as I work on organising and I work on going through these pages stored presents sleeping bags sheets wrapping paper what else it’s getting organised oh on this day which is rainy small things feel like triumphs that is partly why I’m giddy the domestic sphere is reinvigorated manage to get the clothes off the line and folded wow yes we have done it again can you believe it how splendid is this what a day for tasks while the sweetest child rolls on the mat and gurgles and practices coordination hand using the muscles that she’ll need to crawl it’s just simple but it’s an exquisite now, it’s golden
Whatever rocking hood you hear a knee folded over a thigh, a foot that has long grown cold resting against the cool floorboards, a whisper of breath flicks in, out, holding our attention, briefly, small comforts, mild discomforts, joy of a new order, a new nap routine is implemented. Take the news of the day to the panini shop, warm and loud at lunch rush, pieces of potato, eggplant, a child in a high chair eating tomato penne, their older sibling dressed in hi-vis, the parents drink red wine and outside a man plays guitar with a glass of brandy and a waiter who claps
