The sun burns my neck.
The horizon shimmers in the distance.
Sweat stings my squinting eyes.
The horizon is waiting.
My feet are bleeding.
The horizon never gets closer.
Maybe if I rest.
The sun burns my neck.
The horizon shimmers in the distance.
Sweat stings my squinting eyes.
The horizon is waiting.
My feet are bleeding.
The horizon never gets closer.
Maybe if I rest.
Skin and bones and brown eyes and messy hair.
Hugs and kisses and tickles and giggles.
I feel you in my arms.
Can you feel me holding you?
I’m here buddy, I’m here
You are all girl.
All striped leggings and pink tops, peace signs and bracelets.
You are art and music and word games.
You know so much, maybe too much for a child.
And your depth continues to amaze me.
You are like the most amazing stained glass, beautiful and complex.
I lay awake worried about your fragility.
There are a lot of bad people carrying rocks.
How can I keep them away?
You are older than you need to be.
I’ve aged you.
I did not mean to.
Does knowing that I love you enough?
I cry for you.
Does it matter?
I’ll never give up.
It sounds like my voice, but it can’t be.
Someone just asked me how I was doing and I said, “Fine”.
Fine is an elusive figure, shrouded in a wispy cape.
There it is! Behind a tree.
I crawl on my belly to the tree.
I snap quickly with my outstretched hand.
I can feel it! The fabric feels so soft, so warm.
It slips through my grasp, the scent of it lingers.
Why did I have to feel it? Now I need to keep chasing it.
There it is! Behind a rock. It’s back is to me.
Maybe this time. Maybe if I am ever so quiet…