There are so many gods. I like to believe there is one just for small children.
Hard Evidence
Ahead of me in line
I catch a glimpse of two tiny white feet
sticking out from a baby seat,
uncovered on this October morning,
the soles black.
Around each of the frail ankles
lies a ring of grime.
When the baby’s face bobs into view
I see that she’s captivated
by the jeweled butterfly on my lapel
and smiles wanly.
Shall I pin the treasure to her stained sweater
Spirit her away
Teach her the names of all the creatures that fly.
Shall I wash her sooty feet with the finest velvet
And dry them with my hair?
A sequence of my poems has been published in a hardcover book entitled The Music of Leaving Poems by Tricia McCallum
One Response
How wonderful to see the beauty of innocence even beneath grime. It is everywhere and gives us unfettered joy.