You.

Playful dancing child in halo of shimmering light, the end of summer touching your head like gold.

I’ll be gentle with you, like I’m learning to be with myself. We’ll meet like kids on the sidewalk for the first time.

What’s your name? we’d ask, and give it matter of fact, that would be enough. Let’s play.

So here I am, soft tummy and curls, asking you, what’s your name.

Come out and play, because I have sunblock on and my garden is green with growing and we will not hurt each other, we will laugh much, heads thrown back.

And here’s a secret: the Jesus man is glowing in white and he’s my friend too, and he will be friends with you.

We will be safe children and fast friends and patient hearts, strung like daisy chains.

We will be.

 

October 17, 2016 — Alexandra Hunter
Tags: poetry