The Burglar on a Food Raid

 

The Burglar doing what she does best, burgling.

“Baby on the hunt!” I cried, but too late, she’d got hold of her sister’s unattended breakfast bowl.

the Burglar's food raid

the Burglar’s food raid

 

 

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son

As I hold close your small sleeping body,
milk-sated,
stomach puppy-round,
already I feel the ache of loss
For a time when I will no longer be allowed
to hold close your small sleeping body,
Mother-watching the dreams fleet across your face
Your self, so deeply real underneath my hands
Son
This brief heartbeat while you are mine