You were bigger than my doll
but quiet. When I bounced her on my lap
she squawked mama through her plastic mouth,
but you had no words, only bubbles;
black licorice eyes
shinier than jellybeans in an Easter basket.
Your fingers knew how to catch mine already
and not let go. Babies are better than dolls
because they see you, I said
and went back to my crayons.
Happy birthday, baby bro.