Ella Poem by Lee Wilkinson

The household
is sleeping,
and the rain
and the late
hour has doused
all to
muffled silence.

We hold each
other,
and rock,
almost one,
until you are
lulled
to sleep.

Too soon you will
awake and be
running
towards things
for which
I can have no
compass.

But I will always
have your
sweet
breath on my
neck, and the warm
sleeping weight of you,
against my chest, and
I will always marvel
that this
Love,
and those sensations,
written
into time
and memory,
can overwhelm;
an unbidden swell
that leaves
such
wonder.