Baby’s Coming
Poem
There he sits stylishly awkward in pressed jeans T-shirt and a quiet look of desperation.
Grabs a magazine, Cosmo thumbs through it, not seeing - eyes focused on the hallway, people streaming in, people shuffling out, worried, happy, Some alone others lost in a huddle of friends and family as they leave, Most questions answered, some left to ponder, but it’s a good day.
He listens to the names being called out, holds the page between his fingers, not yet. He looks over to her and smiles, She’s lost in a puzzle pencil tip to her tongue — where’s the problem?
He wonders what it will be like, when it’s here, when it’s done, will the world as he knows it change – she nods without hearing a word - “relax, you’d think it was you doing all the heavy lifting.”
THEY call his name, he’s up, she’s laughing, as the magazine slides from his lap, to the floor.
He grabs her hand and they walk together, down the hallway, into a room where he’ll wait a little longer and she’ll leave him to his thoughts and her dreams.






