Hundreds of pieces 
Line gallery walls
I put them together in
Fractal patterns
They make pictures under my
Lizard brain lens, refracted in
Shards of color
That contour honeyed visions
I remember, no I
Won't forget
Golden glows of firelight in
Family rooms on soft lined sofas
Or sideline kisses by
Charcoal cooked nighttime 
And trampolines that
Soften our fall
Into autumn
Well I was certain that I
Couldn't jump
(Though I asked how high)
But with your arms beneath her
Your baby girl can be your
Little bird.