Life is so much plodding,
but today there’s a baby on me,
three o’clock sun on our faces
as we lounge on the deck—
my backside on the bench
with legs stretched, feet up
on a yellow chair, the baby
the length of my bare thighs.

The baby moves mild, coos
content, fuzzy warm against my legs.
I stroke his small chest
as a breeze stirs the maple
overhead and it’s all blue,
green, and peach.
The baby finds the chair
with his feet and he bends
at the knees, pushes, returns
and holds, squat like a frog.
The feel and the sight of him—
tilting his head, soaking up
vitamins—is pure summer.

Life is so much plodding,
but today there’s a baby on me,
sun on our faces,
breeze through the maple.

© by Kristen Elde.
Used with the author’s permission.