You do not see,
my lovelies,
the art that I see in your smiles
the light in your laughs
the grace in your child's belly,
jutting like the moon over your little legs.
Two little girls in a claw foot tub
I wash their hair
one after another
They squeeze their eyes closed as I tip their heads back
into the water.
The cat sits in the baby's highchair
licking at a spot on the table,
watching me work.
I took off my shoes today
for the first time in months
let my naked arms free against the March wind
pale and apple white
like the underbelly of a fish.
The wonderment you can find in the maze of a sunflower's seeds,
your small fingers braiding my hair,
and I do not take it out,
even after you have gone to bed.
and you, my lovelies,
do not understand
that as you grow older
I do to
and the only thing more frightening than being lost to age
is watching you get lost, too