i broke the rules

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

I broke the rules today.
I brought them into bed with me
as the early morning mists rose up behind the pine trees.
"He'll never nurse to sleep,"
yet I let him suckle there,
his tiny fists burrowed into the coverlets.
"No kids in bed," I said,
but what can I do about the little arms reaching toward me
in a silent plea?
It's five a.m.,
and I may not know sleep,
but I know the press of a newborn's head
against my chin,
and the gentle nuzzle of a toddler's cheek.
"The years are short," my grandma always said;
and perhaps it was her I was thinking about,
sitting alone on the porch, telephone in hand
as the lone tether to her own,
when I brought my kids into bed
and broke the rules,
just this once,
on a cold morning in the Dolomites.