Piggy-back

My toddler’s feet are size seven.
So tiny, plump, and smooth.
When I lift him up
From the wet sandbox,
Muddy wood chips
Sprinkle the grass
As I swing him on my back.
Small fingers sift my hair
Rather than hold onto
My shoulders for
Balance.

He slips and
Starts to fall.
But I always catch him.

Back on top and
Balance
Made much stronger,
The green-vined exit,
Doesn’t seem much
Farther.