February 2024 Flash Lit 7 (last time) - Shift

Shift

 

That first time

the baby slept through

until five—

I thought there was something

wrong—

was there still breath

in that little body?

I had learned

the night shift,

they rhythmic pacing

from room to room,

patting and soothing.

I knew the light

from the street lamp

through the blinds,

where the floor groaned,

and the particular weight

of the baby’s cry

in my bones.

And now?

Now the baby

stayed nestled.

I slept, too, but

warily,

adjusting to this first

of many

growing shifts.