Tiny tots are cute because they seem unaware
Of what they mean for us, who see in them
The innocence of infant life: something we lost
While learning to beware as we became aware
Of waiting on life.
Behold that infant, standing full three feet tall,
The smug expression mimicking grand-dad
Gulping the last morsel of his buttered toast.
There may be a lick of jam from the spoon.
Baby learns to taste the future.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem