Five fat fingers, each
Haloed with its own profound
Dimple-
Deep and then spreading
In a glaze-thin layer
Until all the baby roundness
Has seeped and dripped off-
Licked and lapped up
Until the spoon is clean and
Not even one hint of that sticky
Sweet messy memory has
Staying
Power-
The hands have grown
Nimble fingers,
Fingers that don’t want to be held.
Oh that bittersweet transformation! This made me cry…at the loss of those sweet little dimpled,chubby hands!
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