The Nestling
The ***** she brought to the marriage
is bawling again.
Something must have woken it up
as it slept in its drawer
where she keeps her special underwear.
Turning to me in the dark.
"Can you see to it?" she ask sleepily.
I turn the nightlight on.
Opening the drawer
piteous cries fill the room,
they jump through walls
causing neighbors to dream
of riding motorbikes.
I wrap the toy up
in a small child's blanket,
its sobs becoming quieter.
She stir under the blankets.
"You always did resent it, “
she mutters.
I slip into a dream,
one where the *****
sleeps happily between us like a baby,
maybe I’ll buy her a dog.
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