All the world envies me. I’m sure of it.
A lady watches us from her window,
two women striding up the walk look back.
Because he is going out, Samuel, on my hip,
chirps bye-bye in my ear. I hunch the other
shoulder where purse and diaper bag straps
threaten to slide off, ask Benjamin to tie
Noah’s knit hat under his chin—Ben needs
ways to contribute and there are plenty.
We each take a chubby toddler hand, walk
Noah carefully down the steps and to the car
where the boys climb in. Noah counts,
“I ride, Mummy ride, Ben ride, Sam ride.”
“Yes, Noah,” Benjamin answers, “we are going
for a ride to the store.” I let bag and purse
slip to the floor, strap and buckle the three in.
As I get behind the wheel, a couple stroll
down the walk, glance our way, talking earnestly.
No matter how awkward and slow I must go,
I am sure all the world envies me.
Gifts from Away 