Waaah waah
Waah waaah
My turn, is it my turn
Rousing, feet plodding, eyes forced open
Ready prepared bottle into warming water
Dirty nappy into bin
Wipe bottom
Powder
Fresh nappy
Fumble with pin
Cradle baby
Bottle into mouth
Avoid dropping back to sleep sitting
Baby down
Tucked in
Crawl back between sheets
Trying not disturb partner
Sleep
Out
Automatic movements
That repeat every few hours through night
Till daylight
Alarm clock
Partner takes over
And struggle into clothes
Through morning rushhour
To stumble through a day's work
Doze through meetings
Fake alertness
Till home again
In unremembered journey
An automaton
Till the glory day
When he ‘sleeps through'
And the world re-appears through the haze
Of half-life
An ordeal to be rapidly forgotten
Until the next baby arrives
Bawling and smelly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem