(one day old)
Beyond your still waking face,
soft down, bones yet to harden
to this reality, it’s your fingers
that fascinate: so mature already
as if everything they are to touch
is already imprinted in fine folds.
Hopefully more play than work
and even better that you find
play in work also. For now
they grasp at dreams of feeling,
testing the air for possibilities
yet to be given shape.