935.
  WHAT IS THAT?

This morning I awoke to the sound of a
  squeaking bed,
Its very rhthmic pattern brought images
  to my head,
Of college years, of wedded bliss, of
  soaps and hotel stays,
I rubbed my eyes, the clock said four,
  I laid there in a haze,
Trying hard to remember why I even hear
  that sound.
It yanked me from a dream of riding the
  merry-go-round.
Squeak! Squeak! Squeak! Squeak! And then
  it comes to me,
I've heard that sound quite frequently
  since he was almost three.
When he is in his "happy place" he's
  rocking on his head.
I try to close my eyes again and snuggle
  in my bed.
    March 21, 2014