In the baby’s room

The city lights are
Milky
In the curtains…
Breath
Gentle as rain,
Sleep
Quiet as snowflakes

I didn't bathe him because I was too afraid he would slip out of my hands or his belly button would open. Then one night I woke at three A.M. certain he was rotting like a chicken carcass. Only as I lowered him into the sink did I realize this was a crazy time to wash a baby and I began to cry because he was so trusting—I could do anything and he would go along with it, the little fool.

Those eyes so ecstatic with the gleam of new life, the wide laugh that no doubt uses up so much of the breath contained in those tiny lungs.

Ontario is so far behind in newborn screening that this is a useful baby step, but there are significant gaps in this announcement,

Rockabye Baby, in the treetop
Dont you know a treetop
is no safe place to rock?
And who put you up there,
and your cradle too?
Baby,
I think someone down here
has got it in for you!

In soul of every newborn baby,
words are waiting to be written.