Poem by Cynthia Ruth Lewis
Photo by Jill Burhans


Night shuts you down like a bird;
having spent your fragile wings, they now fold gently
over your breast in exhaustion,
tiny mouth closing on your endless barrage of words
that knew no form or meaning,
yet pierced the entire length of day

now you sleep, curled protectively
in your own small world.
I can do nothing but watch your tiny chest
rise and fall as the tide
with the breath of your being and innocence.

I cup my ear to the silence--
to your in- and exhalation
and can almost hear the pulse and hiss
of the ocean as it swells, rises
and gently breaks upon the shore
of our simple existence 

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