sleeping with penguins

hypnotic music

‘music for a found harmonium’

fills the room and

birdsong through the open window

it’s warm today

I stand at the door

a soft sheet wraps her waist

against a breast

a new-born  bleats contentedly

mother’s milk trickles his chin

both are sleeping

I climb on the bed

lean my head against

and put my lips to

a babe-free breast

the pasture scent

of our son’s head

the misty whisper

of perspiration

the music the birdsong

her breathing

baby’s purring -

heady intoxication

I close my eyes

I drift to sleep

and sleeping

                                                     I’m dancing with strangers

leaping laughing loving

I wake to Horace Silver’s

Mexican Hip Dance

smiling, I slide from the bed

mother and baby have not stirred

Sunday morning life is sweet.