The scent of orange fills my nose,
A reminder of my freshly washed hair.
She cuddles up next to my back,
Her arm over me like a comforting blanket.

As I lay there, half asleep,
I can feel her stomach moving.
And it takes me back five years,
Back to when she carried our first son.

She would hold me like this,
The lingering smell of her soap.
Washing over me like a wave of cucumber-melon,
Cocooning me in her cleanliness.

When I would begin to doze,
I would feel our unborn child kicking her.
I could feel his hands and feet thumping,
Ever so lightly into my back.

It felt like the bass from a stereo,
Which rattles your eardrums and shakes your bones.
Only far softer, a gentle reminder of his presence,
Good night kisses for dad, night time beating for mom.

As I snoozed, cushioned in her warmth,
And assaulted by his vigor.
I could gaze out the window,
And watch the soft snow drift down onto the quiet earth.

As they passed before my eyes,
I could see each tiny snowflake.
Dancing like a miniature ballerina,
To the music of my son’s ever increasing tempo.

Then she would roll over to get more comfortable,
And I would follow her, wrapping my body around hers.
The smell of her hair, the scent of strawberries,
Caressing my nostrils with their teasing fragrance.

She would sigh as I enfolded her,
Her body molding to mine like so much putty.
As I closed my eyes and entered the blissful world of sleep,
I could feel him already starting to rat-atat-tat on my hands.

Then with a start I am back in the present day,
And I remember that it is no longer the arm of a lover.
But rather the arm of a friend that holds me close,
And, for a moment, her arm seems to weigh down heavily.

But then I remember that she still cares,
And I have two wonderful children that mean everything to me.
I can hear the gentle sounds of their breathing,
Over the ever present baby monitor.

I can hear the clock in their room,
Softly tickling away the seconds.
And her breathing quietly into my ear,
As I adjust my body more comfortably against hers.

I take her hand loosely in mine,
The soft skin feeling so smooth against my rough.
I gently squeeze it, and am rewarded with her answering squeeze,
A reminder that, though changed, life is still good.

She murmurs ever so softly,
The sound barely heard.
As she rolls over onto her other side,
And I follow, a gentle smile on my face.