The silent child

The child sits outside
watching
through the window of the house that he built
without her permission.

Patient,
quiet,
devastated
that he forgot that she wanted a red roof
and wooden floors
and a fireplace
to tell stories.

She waits for him
in moments when his heart cries to listen,
and he finds that he has drunk too much
or eaten without care
or awoken without wanting to rise.

Patient,
quiet,
devastated
that he spends his time impressing strangers
with kind words
and warm embraces,
while she waits.

The child looks up with blazing blue eyes
filled with an understanding that spans always,
as he steps out into the cold rain,
tears in his eyes,
and asks her to guide him home.

She takes his outstretched hand
and offers him her embrace,
holding him steady
in the wash of the storm,
slowly leading him
back to the house.

Patient,
quiet,
devastated
that he cannot yet see
how much room he has
to play.

Categories: #poetry


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