Fevering and Teething

Baby's home with slight fever and swollen legs from her four month injections yesterday - damn Western medicine and its healing ways - and teething, to top it off. So we are reading a few poems by James Stevenson. Mama likes these:

Coming or Going

The screen door screeches.

The screen door slams.

Coming or going,

Going or coming,

The sounds are the same.

But what a difference

It makes to me --

Your going away,

Your coming home.

Dawn

When the moment comes

When you can tell

The sky is blue, not black,

You'll see torn bits of it

Scattered through the trees,

Fallen like confetti,

As if to say

Night is not forever--

In fact, within one hour,

A grand parade is coming

With white clouds marching.

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Wishing you will feel better this morning, Darling, as Mama goes off to work and you slip off to dreamland at Christine's. I love you.