Four

Today, you crawled into my lap for a cuddle

And I marked it

Because I’d realised earlier that I had forgotten the last time.

You don’t fit in anymore, like a squishy little ball

You are all sticky-outy elbows and knees and energy

Bumping into me as impatience to do propels you away again.

With one hand I want to launch you to fly, higher higher than I’ve been

And on the other I count the seconds.

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Baby days

zephelly

Baby days.

These days.
My every one consumed
smothered
obliterated
By two small boys who make me the
center of their universe.

These back-breaking
soul-making days.
These exhausting tiresome menial days.
These on-a-loop glorious days.

These precious
fleeting
days.

Which will never come again.