Poetry

Sneaky Picture

Like a tsunami washing over the shores
The morning sun washes over my pores
Under the covers I reach for my wife
Feeling nothing, I swung like a knife

Where could she be? I ask myself
I strain my eyes to read the clock on the shelf
Eleven o’clock I overslept again
Even though it is the weekend

I pull the covers back and stagger from bed
Yawning involuntarily and scratching my head
I make my way through the hall and down the stairs
That’s when I see them reclining on chairs

My wife is stretched out with my child
So gently they rock like one compiled
Carefully I move to not make a sound
Swinging my head I look all around

In the corner I spy my camera laying
Not to wake them, I start my praying
Turning I focus and get a good angle
Of a daughter and mother so entangled

The flash goes off, their eyes open wide
My daughters arm swings up trying to hide
I have my sneaky picture, she is too late
I smile to myself because it turned out great

Original work of:

Jason E. Lee