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In the park,
sunlight billowing from sky to water and settling then on your iridescent face.
And just beyond a father, daughter. Twin souls populating freewheeling space.

I notice this:
There are sounds that untouched children make,
swinging arms and gait. They sing and laugh and we know, by the contours of that sound, they are safe.

And you, child,
black braids fending off the sun because who needs it anyway?
There is enough light inside.
You, precocious where I was desperate; you, laughing like I wanted to laugh.

We both want to be seen, but me,
I wanted someone, anyone, to see what I could not say…