Shapes of Days
I just met a boy on my first day
Lay beside his arm on the sunniest of days
I just met the boy playing in a pen
Pulled up in the arms, off to see the hens
Though I won't remember, I think it is quite nice
Sitting in his stroller, and reaching for the kites
I just saw the boy on the floor of the shed
He's painting his face, it's all over his head
His mom wipes him down, and I'm sitting on the counter
It turns into a laugh, then we're chewing on the flowers
I just saw the boy running round the yard
There's other children screaming, I grab onto his arm
Sip from the carton, it's running down his mouth
Wipes it with his hand, but it doesn't seem to help
There's milk on his hand — but he's asking to be held
He climbed into a tree for red berries
But did not eat those hanging beads
We'll cook them to a stew, if he can come down
He's hanging from a branch, he's stuck there now