I felt the joy of morning as I held
you, smiling, while your mother watched and glowed
from just across the kitchen.  We compelled
her eyes to find her camera.  Morning slowed
the way all scenes of love and beauty do.
And you, my child, were more than love and more
than beauty.  In her picture we were two
of God’s most happy children.  I adored
the way you pouted just to share my juice;
you pulled my hands and arms ’til I gave up.
I laughed until my laughter was the truce
that sealed your triumph, capturing the cup!
You kissed me then; your baby kiss was sweet.
No broken fast was ever more complete.

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