Before she opens her eyes in the morning her head turns
To place a kiss on her baby brother’s cheek.
Two feet clunk to the floor, scuffling off to find her sister,
Wake up, it’s morning. Where are the boys?
I don’t remember a time they were not with her.
At her birth I remember all of our arms in a jumble on my stomach
Feeling her fingers and back, listening to her breathe.
She has never had a time without them.
A day alone with me holds little interest, too quiet, dull.
I never knew such a child could exist, before I had one.
using the write alm prompt from yesterday: