I lie awake, listening;
The baby monitor buzz
And green light
Keep me close to him.
Through static
And thin walls
His rattle and wheeze
Speaks of fragility;
The fine line
Between giggle and grave
Never more obvious.
Each in and out,
Like tides of time,
Prolong his little life
By a breath's width...
Hypnotic this dance -
A rhythm of anxiety,
For how can I sleep
When breaths are broken?
Your fever is a kiln
For dreams,
Firing them into
Burden weights
Upon your tiny brow.
And here am I,
Your father sworn
To fight dragons for you
Or rend the cruel world
In your defence -
Made helpless by bacteria
For strong arms
And protective fury
Cannot fight this
Battle for you.
So I keep this patient
Bleary vigil -
A night divided into breaths...
The breaths of your life
I hope may ebb and flow
Long after mine are gone.
Get well, little son.
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