There are days that creep by slowly,
ebb more than they flow.
Morning comes before my eyes are ready
and bedtime comes long after it’s due.
I find the clock one time too many,
linger in a chair long enough to want to stay,
bury myself in stickers on walls and princess clothes,
gather train tracks and crumb covered fingers,
and manage to breathe it all in.
Because these days that drift, long after they should have cascaded along?
They tumble into years,
into high chairs in storage and cribs coming down,
into preschool cubby holes and toothless grins,
into giddy sleepovers and asking for car keys,
into a quiet life of wondering…
how they ever blurred passed at all.
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