my waterbabies

Hey Austen...

Hey River...

What is it about bath time that is so fun?
What do you pretend, in that little head of yours?

Are you in an ocean?
Are you a mermaid?
Are there fishies in your bath that I don't know about?

Curled eyelashes.

And drippy locks.

And naked, cushiony, baby bums.

Give me hugs, my clean, fresh, sweet-smelling babies!
This time is so fleeting.
My heart is in my throat.
Please don't grow up.

1 comment:

  1. Whitney, this is such a beautiful poem...or photo journal...whatever it is? BEAUTIFUL!



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