Stone Circle Morning

She laughs and scooches closer, enough so she can reach in and scoop up her little nephew with one paw. She settles him in a cradle between her forearms and stares. He’s so small.

“Shhhh,” she coos, nuzzling his tiny body with her lips, “Tomorrow I’ll take you on all the adventures. But today let’s be quiet for your mom, ok?” She rocks them.

And on her tongue a song forms from a memory nearly forgotten. She hums while they sway, then the words softly shift into recollection.

“Hush-a-bye,
Don’t you cry,
Go to sleep you little baby,
When you wake,
You shall have,
All the pretty little horses.”