The whisper of floorboards underfooot
tickle me through my slumber,
the form in the doorway
as familiar as my own shadow.
“Mama, Ave come up?”
her throaty whisper caresses me, and I nearly purr.
“Ave. My Avey-Davie, come’ere,”
I murmur through ripples of sheets and tangles of hair.
And she is in my arms,
molding in a moment to the curves of my body.
Bits of light sneak through the loose weave of the curtains,
skittering up the quilt to join in our predawn cuddle.
Sean stirs beside me, Avery sighs and stretches,
gentle fingers flutter on my neck,
down the hall the cat is curled at Briar’s side.
I sigh, the baby turns and I am at peace.
The fulfillment of destiny settles over me like petals.