I can’t really be mad
it wasn’t built to hand around.
I guess my one little quibble
if I had one
and I don’t mean to offend
(chose your enemies wisely they say).
do you have to take
so much with you?
I mean you have those fat little pink baby cheeks
and stubby, chubby hands
and sisterly huddles
the new baby haze
countless Summer days.
You even took my father’s gaze.
Maybe you would be so kind
as to, on occasion
fling something back from where it’s gone
for me to hold here in my palm?
a bittersweet parcel of time now gone?
that is called