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.