Babies.

I slept in 'cause you slept in,

so we slept in—though not really.

The sun starts rising at five a.m.

in summer, so seven felt late.

We got up and fed the babies.

Everyone is a baby in this house.

I call you baby, you call me baby.

We call the cats and dogs—

even the foxes and possums outside—

babies.

You say,

"How can I love my babies so much?"

I don’t know who you mean,

and it doesn’t matter.

I love them, and you, too—

and every man might be better

if he saw everyone

as his baby, like you do.