Pumpkins, sweaters, chilly weather—
In theory, but still warm in Texas and
In my heart, it’s warm enough to stand
still in the sun while you scamper about
Splashing bare feet, backwards hat, squealing with delight,
barely two and still too free to know there
should be school and wind and witches
Haunting your wild October.
You sip muddy puddles and spit them
out and smile as I blow bubbles that shiver away
on the breeze above fallen leaves.
My child, shall we turn the water off—no, no—
My child, when is naptime?—never, never—
And can I refuse, with you chasing butterflies and bumblebees and
singing to yourself in golden melody?
You are pumpkin pie, the sweet spice of life
And summertime at two should last forever.