When my sister was a baby dad would fly her around the house singing “Ride of the Valkyries”. His voice operatic, he swooped her low so she bombed us with drool and we laughed, smiling up at her, little steward of Valhalla.
Poems by Jason M. Harlow
When my sister was a baby dad would fly her around the house singing “Ride of the Valkyries”. His voice operatic, he swooped her low so she bombed us with drool and we laughed, smiling up at her, little steward of Valhalla.
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