Tired

new parenting

brain filled with baby

little sleep.

By luck I’ve not lost my keys

for more than half a day.

The house didn’t burn down when he left the hotplate on that night.

His hair is greyer, but still plentiful.

Grandmothers descend when I’m at wits end,

a nap my saviour.

I hope the universe keeps being kind

as we fumble through the fugue

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