Noticing.Twenty-Nine

Uninterrupted sleep. I sneak in to make sure she’s breathing. The 5:30 light on the back porch is so saturated with shadows it looks like Rembrandt dreamed it. I consider washing the kitchen window to see it better but decide I like the filter. My last words to him are critical. My intent is to improve, not deride, but that’s not what he hears. I see it in his shoulders as he heads down the steps. But I don’t apologize. I’m not really sure how to. She wakes up smiling and laughing like she h...