Claire

I used to wipe your bum

Now you know words like ‘maybe’ and ‘matching’

Pizza torn around hot peppers

Its sficy, you say

And I fear I may have hurt a

Tiny helpless bird

“See how im holding her like this”

A prayer from your mother when you were half your age

Deep bounces into cribbed sleep

I sang the color song

“The night is robed in spangled black”

I may never lullaby my own 

So thank you for running to me

One piggy flying and one still tucked

Grinning out loud and into my arms

You may be one of my last littles