baby feet

How can two feet be loved this much?
They make me weak, those feet.
The tops are smooth like rock centuries under the falls.
The bottoms, soft, ripe pears.
I love to play peek-a-boo with them over my eyes,
to hold them, squeeze them, count the toes!

He still plays with them and chews on them.
Now he stands on them and walks
around the house looking for trouble.
He sits down and puts his head on the floor between them
when he’s mad.

Oh, summer come quickly,
that we may cover those feet with kisses
instead of shoes!

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