Evelyn

Evelyn is two weeks old today, which is ten days older than expected.

I first saw her at the yard sale, sleeping snugly slung to her mother. The next day, I saw her asleep in her crib. She awoke, but her eyes didn’t open.

She joins the ease of little girls who surround me here: Emily, Edith, and Eugenia. Evelyn.

They light up the summer like fireflies.

But their emphatic, exquisite, energetic charm must be ephemeral, like mayflies. Mustn’t it?

Drink deeply.