Stone Circle Love, mom

Her head is heavy and full but when his voice lifts tenderly over the soft suckling of the puppies she raises it to search the dark.

“Figment,” she breathes and exhales his name, reaching for him. He is here; he hasn’t left.

“He looks like you,” even if winded from the strain, her voice is steeped in wonder as she cradles her son and daughter against her, “and so does she.”

Two children he gave to her. And would he love them at once as she does?