O Those Cheeks

round plump plums in summer as I push your stroller round and round

scarlet mounds as you run round and round
grownups sipping aperitifs taking no notice of you until you fall
gasping for air at their feet giggling

fresh pink peaches in winter—the novelty of it—delectable sweet and round and mine to nibble

tucked under my arm at bedtime as I read Horton Hears a Who dark lashes layered
upon those round morsels of cheeks

all memory now

the snowy angles of your face as you read The Underwear Dare aloud
evoke your father, your uncle, your grandpa
all the men in my life who preceded you
you laugh and I hear them too

and we go round and round and round

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