The Young

The young move through,

Like wrecking balls,

Clearing, tilling, plowing, sowing, reaping,

And that’s the way it goes.

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The Protector

I will protect you,
I would lay down my own life
For yours to be good

I will protect you,
A human shield to keep
You safe from all harm

I will protect you,
I am guardian
Of your innocence

I will protect you,
You are the reason
I breathe here today

Playground

August 7, 2017

Wordlessly,
We’re instantaneous friends,
Down slides,
Pushing one another on swings,
Wound around monkey bars,
We see but do not judge color,
We are close in age,
But developmental milestones apart,
The sand sifts under feet
And is pounded as we run,
In wonder we laugh
About everything
And nothing,
We make games,
With rules
We break as we go,
Imagination colors everything
Technicolor,
And we see things and each other
Not just as they are
But how we might imagine them to be,
Guardians watch our play
With vigilance and quiet amusement
We will lose this play with age,
But for now we are carefree adventurerers,
On the terrain of our childhood.