From a narrow vantage
I sit, watching her brown feet
hammer across hot sand
like an upright crab dancing across shells.
I think she is a sweet date with no wrinkles,
her saggy swimsuit a mere adult artifact she graciously dons —
its ruffles and hearts nothing more than the coded language of the times.
It’s not long after that I’m seated beside a small boy,
telling me that soon the plane will go fast
as he offers me a piece of his gum.
He double checks that his penguin and myself are buckled
because he still loves everyone.
He wants to tell me many things, touches my hand without thinking,
but is scolded for bothering strangers too much.
I try to undo the wall, but my eyes can’t seem to express
how much I love the light of his wonder, the magic bridge he makes
from one world to another.