They were scared for a moment, I'm sure.
That's the part I can feel the most,
because in me still is a little child,
standing in awe at the good the world brings,
another yellow sunrise, sweet crayons,
a blue globe, pencil boxes, books
about the love mother whales have for their babies
on their journey from Mexico to Alaska and back,
the voice of the teacher, warm as mother
but leading me outside to find my true place.
If I could, I would lead the ghosts of twenty children
out of their graves to play.
As it is, I can only be with one.
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