Five Minute Friday: Tender(ly)
He leans in,
dimples deep, smile wide,
arms wrapping around my neck twice.
Shoulders bare beneath my chin
and that soft place on the back of his neck,
the last bit of baby on this boy body growing so fast before my very eyes.
Tenderly I kiss his sweet skin and he squirms,
giggles, laughs, and demands a raspberry belly,
we tussle amid the pillow pets and blankies;
his laughter climbs the walls.
The other boy calls,
with one last hug I leave
to read of monsters and mayhem and mummies,
his spider-like limbs curled into my side.
Just bones and sinew this boy,
growing so fast that the calories we pour into him can’t keep up.
He is lean, and strong; feet like paddles are nearly as big as mine.
Tenderly, I kiss the spot on the back of his neck,
still tan from summer, covered with fine downy fuzz,
the last bit of boy on this emerging man, growing so fast before my very eyes.