This is the view. My house and driveway. There’s a pile of green waste in the driveway that my partner ekes into our tiny green lidded bin. There’s always more than she can get rid of in any given fortnight.
Sparrow is a wakeful little thing, and often ends up doing day sleeps in the car. So this is where I sit, and wait. I hope, simultaneously, that he will keep sleeping, and that he will wake soon. Keep sleeping Sparrow so that when you open your eyes they are bright, and the grizzles are gone, and the next two hours are easy and good. Wake up Sparrow so I can eat, and wee, and hang the washing out before the lemony winter sun disappears behind clouds. Keep sleeping Sparrow so I can sit, and write, and breathe without a child on me. Wake up Sparrow so we can cuddle and sing, so I can put my face into the warm crease of your neck and say your name over and over like a song, like love, like a prayer to this even keeled day.
Sleep. Wake. Sleep.