The chaos of looking after a baby -
At nought, never more than six inches apart,
He swapped his real umbilical cord for a length of imaginary elastic
And the silence of the womb for a voice pitched to exert maximum pressure
That fractured my concentration,
Drove me to action.
Never at full throttle, I slept when he slept,
Woke when he woke, comforted when he cried and enthused when he sparkled,
Pointing out the world to a silent listener,
Carrying my companion, even in my mind.