the baby is crying
through the wall.
it's a soft
weep.
she needs to be rocked,
to be held, or
fed, perhaps read to
as she falls asleep.
I could
if I could, but
those days are long
past me.
i'll just listen
as i lie here to
the sweetness of the voice,
a warming
sound, that says all
is well. everyone
is home now.
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