NATIONAL POETRY MONTH: Day 16

(3)

She gazed at me expectantly 
water boiling in her eyes
instead of one baby, they’ll be three. 

A soft hand on her belly
tender look, simple disguise 
she gazed at me expectantly

and asked if I was happy.
After countless pregnant-tries,
instead of one baby, three.

I’d dreamed of a big family  
but nothing quite like this surprise
when she gazed at me expectantly,  

I wondered if there’d be room for me
in a home of warm disguise,
instead of one baby, three 

She gazed at me expectantly, 
instead of one baby, they’ll be three.