"What's that, Mama? An airplane?"
She's pointing at an eagle,
fingertips stained with cherry juice.
We talk about flying, Ruby and I
free as the airplane birds
She moves her miniature sunchair
closer to the bumblebee wading pool
to dip her feet in
then she shows Hale
how to throw his heavy sippy cup into
It splashes me,
my shirt is soaked, face dripping
Humid air makes their hair curl
little ringlets bouncing
as they run
blades of wet grass stuck to their legs
Then back to the picnic table
watching ladybug ants march to the food
Seeing what happens when a pretzel
sidewalk chalk stuck to their lips.
They don't seem to mind
A lone butterfly flutters over
the neighbors fence
and lands for a brief moment
on Hale's arm
before taking off again to rise and fall
on the gentle breeze
Are we all chasing butterflies in the sun?
*I've replaced my children's names with aliases for the online version of this poem