My fat little baby
is reaching up
for something bright
that dangles–
bangles of light
and brilliant
color.
His elbows
are deeply dimpled,
his cheeks are
perfectly-proportioned 
for a million kisses.
There has never been
a rolypolier boy.

One day he will have dreams
of being an astronaut
or a fireman.
He may want to write a book
or play guitar like his dada.

But right now,
all he hopes for
is this:
that I will put down
the computer,
look right into his eyes,
and say hello.