Your songbird steps, stumbles, and smiles in a bright flowered dress, in chorus with green green grass blue sky blue water.
Children push each other on swings and play checkers with rocks – they call out in some cacophony and you never hear a word.
You touch her palm, swing her fingers with yours - a light graze – she needs not coaxing nor restraint – she can hold her own –
She laughed and looked at him with eyes that at once gave him courage to wait and made it torture to wait
She moves over pavement, laughing talking – always a dance – your arm around her and for a moment, you hold her.
She likes that, the being held.
Oh, but the tide holds her later, tugs her ankles – I am coming – taunts and recedes -
She could have shouted for joy.
She closes her eyes instead as sun strikes pale face dark hair wide smile – she neither invites nor rejects -
And you kiss her – before she can laugh – before her eyes turn sky-bound again in her dance against gravity –
- while she is quiet girl with closed eyes and you for this moment have her.
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