The real thing

The real thing

By Olivia Gwyn

I am trying to make a life, 

but I have to make dinner

and get my baby to sleep, 

but she won't go to sleep

So I strap her on me and boil pasta

and rock her and sing and

start to wonder what's wrong with her

– I mean, me

Until I finally get her down

and take a deep breath

and remind myself

this is the whole point

Until she wakes up 

and interrupts

my poem about her

and I forget

What a gift –

the real thing