I am laughing because you signed “orange”
for the fourth time today
with such joy on your face
and the sounds of this new word
coming from your wide smile
and I’m peeling it with my clubbed fingers
my fingers that held yours today
full love of love and trust and confidence
while we walked outside
downtown on cracked sidewalks
and through the hospital avoiding germs
and then I realize your love for oranges
(clementines, really, because they’re just your size)
and my love for oranges
are undeniably connected.
I ate one almost every day
while you grew inside my belly
I ate one the day you were sleeping
during the ultrasound (one of many)
and we needed you to move.
It seems like just a minute ago when
you jumped and swayed inside my belly
and pushed on my strong lungs
and without knowing, I knew you so well.
there is this wonderfully strange
separate but the same
and I never tire of the awe I feel
every time I look at you.
“more orange please mama”
okay Simon, more orange.