Beside the stroller,
Petting zoo’s spectacles temporarily forgotten;
Wheat-brown palms find their destination;
Protuberant pupils slant in concentration;
Tongue set between taut lips.
No miner’s tools—no light necessary;
Digging deep with precision—cache in the offing;
Explores, pinpoints, delivers.
Bashful mirth—victory coo; a toddler’s smile;
He extends a stout fingertip, smothered moist, green algae;
Offering exhibition of his treasure, nonpareil.
toddler – my right nut.
you wrote this autobiographically.
Haha, dangit!