it’s 4:10 a.m.,

it’s 4:10 a.m.,
and vivienne doesn’t like
the end of daylight
savings and everything her
tiny body knows about
the way we force time
to flex arbitrarily.
her lungs are still puncturing
the darkness of 5:10 a.m.
as we practice wading
backwards through the
minutes until someone
can pick her up
from her cradle,
rock the additional
hour soothingly
into a new slumber


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