I’ve got her hand.
We’re on a wooded path near the water.
There is no smile on her lips.
No question in her eyes.
Her hand is docile in mine.
She is open to being led.
There is no other place she’d rather be.
She needs this place near the water.
She needs to see and watch the chickadees
On the branches near her face
So bold and curious
So much smaller than she.
I kneel before her
As if to apologize
But can only stare into her seriousness.
Her eyes are soulful.
She is unresponsive to lies.
Nothing could tempt her to smile
When she felt like frowning.
When she’s alone,
She dances.
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