Milk Drunk
He sleeps unaware
of what it took to get here.
Of what it takes
to learn and love.
Of what it will take
to stay and leave.
He smiles and a stream
of milk escapes in bliss.
11 thoughts on "Milk Drunk"
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this is the sweetest poem…
Thank you. ❤️
Precious, Patti!
Thanks, Amy.
milk drunk is the best kind of drunk
Indeed!
A sweet poem for a precious baby. Adorable!
Thanks, Christina.
Love the title!
Love your observations
Sweet and well crafted.