Bird Watching

(for Willie)

My son's hand flies

like the origami balloon

he made last night,

it crawls

like a dinosaur

across the kitchen counter

 

it climbs my head

and curls closed

and is popped

(a sound like a cracking egg)

by his other hand

atop my skull

 

it waves in the air

keeping his balance,

its fingers close carefully

to grasp

a crumb from the floor

 

its thumb gently lifts apart

an orange's segments

and its forefinger

pushes them into

his waiting mouth