What we miss
We miss those very normal times
and things of inconsequence
that we gave up without a fight
because we knew (or thought we knew)
they'd come again, like.....
A sneeze, a cough, a laugh,
bottles in the sink,
diapers in a drawer,
the crackle of a baby monitor.
A checking-in phone call, a report card,
gum wrappers, a hug, a high five,
a hairbrush on the sink, a yo-yo on the floor,
broken pencils and crayon nubs.
Footprints in the carpet,
a bathtub ring, a fogged up mirror,
the front door opening
with, "Hi, I'm home."
An unmade bed, dirty clothes in the closet,
a worn out toothbrush, cologne,
used band-aids in the trash, hair in the sink,
half a glass of orange juice, a kiss on the cheek.
Warm skin, bright eyes,
a gentle smile and a beating heart;
their breath, their body,
their tomorrow.
That's what we miss,
and so much more.
We miss those very normal times
and things of inconsequence
that we gave up without a fight
because we knew (or thought we knew)
they'd come again, like.....
A sneeze, a cough, a laugh,
bottles in the sink,
diapers in a drawer,
the crackle of a baby monitor.
A checking-in phone call, a report card,
gum wrappers, a hug, a high five,
a hairbrush on the sink, a yo-yo on the floor,
broken pencils and crayon nubs.
Footprints in the carpet,
a bathtub ring, a fogged up mirror,
the front door opening
with, "Hi, I'm home."
An unmade bed, dirty clothes in the closet,
a worn out toothbrush, cologne,
used band-aids in the trash, hair in the sink,
half a glass of orange juice, a kiss on the cheek.
Warm skin, bright eyes,
a gentle smile and a beating heart;
their breath, their body,
their tomorrow.
That's what we miss,
and so much more.