This morning’s post seems to have sunk out of sight, so I am posting it again.
Under tall spreading trees
Dad places bags to one side
spreads out two rugs. Mum
puts baby brother down with
relief. Turning one in ten days’
time, he’s a strapping lad.
Round the edges of the rugs
his grandparents and great aunts
seat themselves while his older
sisters cross the path, jump into
the broad shallow pool with all
the other lively children.
Meanwhile baby brother who
cried to Mum he was hungry
all the way from the car is
fed well then given a rusk.
Now he gnaws at his rusk
and sighs, watches the girls,
wishes he could join them yelling,
running, splashing, playing with
Dad in the pool’s excitement.
At home he rolls from his back
to his front to his back, then
right across the living room floor.
Now he drops his rusk, rolls off
his bottom on to his knees,
steadies himself leaning forward
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