A Perfect Day

Seventeen inches of snow,
And we dig and dig and dig
All the way to the hot tub.

Two sets of little, naked buns--
One running over snow toward water,
The other in my arms as I run, too.

The snow is still falling
When we get into the water,
Turning our faces up to the sky.

I say that the snow on my eyelashes
Makes me feel like a little kid again,
Playing with my own little kids.

"There's a little kid in everyone," she says.
"Until they're really old people."
Nearly six years old, and so wise.

My baby's fist pulls gobs of snow
Into his mouth and into the water
As he laughs and laughs and laughs.

We eat homemade cookies from the neighbor,
And warm, honey-graham muffins
And strawberry-flavored snow in melamine bowls.

Seventeen inches of snow,
And we dig and dig and dig
Until our muscles ache from the work.

"Do you like doing this?" I ask.
My husband nods and asks me the same.
There's euphoria in work with our bodies.

Hot cocoa and white wine.
Warm chicken and mashed potatoes.
Wet clothes drying on the racks.

Little toes by firelight,
Reading my old Shel Silverstein,
Laughing at the poems I loved as a kid.

Off to bed with little, tired bodies.
We cuddle in an old chair,
Singing the old lullabies.

I love you, a bushel and a peck.
You bet your pretty neck I do.
You bet your pretty neck I do.Copyright 2009 JLF and the Momplex Blog.