Poetry Monday #2

Inappropriate thoughts

It is moments like these

while holding my sleep rumpled

daughter in my arms

gazing down into her

perfectly still face

and studying the veins running

across her closed eyelids

enraptured by the fall

of her eyelashes

across her cheeks

like feathered pine leaves

brushing the cool dewy forest floor

holding her lightly as her back

arches and her face turns away

in a silent stretch

to revel the spot

where her head rested against my arm

now softly dark and damp

and sweet with sweat

that I think to myself


I really need

to clean out her ears