let joy kill you

with an itch and a sneeze we stand in the grass under petal and leaf and bud. a swoosh of wind the pollen and petals snow around us in a pink fluttering whorl. when the boys wake me up in the morning my eyes are stiff and burning. it's taking more than coffee to shake the sleepy heavy feeling away.

the fans spin in full swing. the boys wear as little as possible. henry wants to "wear his dress", meaning he wants to get dressed. he plays his harmonica and jumps from the couch to the rug and back onto the couch again and then does a flipping somersault across the couch, dropping his harmonica in the process.

he moves in a golden fluttering whorl, a constant swish of star-spun twinkle and dance.

this morning i sit at this wreckage on my desk and drink the last cup of coffee. henry chews gum after toast. jude snoozes in the sunny blue room upstairs.







today is joe's birthday so we are readying to messy the kitchen as we batter together the makings of cake. a party tonight with lights in the trees and flowers on the table. the first birthday with dreamy weather and glossy green grass.

"i have seen them live long and laugh loud..."