the Little Things

Sleepy eyes struggling to stay open, one drooped closed the other still open a sliver.  Baby lips that suckle even in slumber.  The indescribable feel of newborn skin, as though it were invisible. A baby sigh. 

A tickle and a giggle.  A chubby hand fingering my finger in a quiet room before bed.  A thumb stuffed into a mouth, soothing.  The cry of “mama, mama!” demanding one more kiss before night. 

By: Mel Jackson

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