routine hits morning with a lack
of poetic beauty as i address
your problem of peeing on yourself
by changing your children’s depends
and tossing them to the hall way as
you smile for the camera to say hello
to great grandma and wonder if you’ll
ever know who she is or she’ll be
gone first but now its time for o’s
on your plate or lack thereof and a
nap before its off to the only place
we go all week with childcare and
you smile knowing nothing of what’s
about to be said, or sung, or done, all
the while i just keep hoping you know
hope
joy
lack of fear
before your father did at 20