tiny arms, filled to the brim with fire orange gladiolas
Holding tight all by your own self to the carousel pole
Fearlessly, messily flailing your tiny arms to swim out in the big, big lake
Long hot days, short sweet years,
The barometer of babyhood, measured by your
strength and independence
Still coming quick back to me on the playground
When a big girl bullies you.
I’ll wrap you up in my arms, on my chest, and defend you
Until the end of time.