Small Wonders

The shuffle of her feet
as she creeps to my bed,
to snuggle me awake.
Kissing my cheeks,
and whispering,
“No, I’m the lucky one.”

Leaving

Listen this evening as the quiet East train rushes
past streets, and fields, coffee cups,
and lies.

Ten Mothers say, “I have arrived.”

While in the basket,
my accidental girl pushes her pink fingers,
dreaming.

New Over Old by Susan Wood