I feel a child trembling,
for she is so unsure.
I want to help her,
but her back is turned,
her face against the cold wall.
I hear a child’s footsteps,
always just beyond my reach.
I try to catch her,
but cannot grasp her coat tails
in the blinding darkness.
I sense a child crying.
She is alone.
I want to hold her in my arms.
But I cannot,
for that child has grown.
I find her in my memory…
only when I do not
intend to look.