Playground at the Unitarian Church.
Sand, wooden play set, plastic
Yellow slide.
An unfurled plastic hose drug across
the sand, and two perfect, small humans
Filling a watering can, pouring, filling.
Their limbs slender and tan, graceful.
My boy and her girl, working together,
Practicing for something encoded in
their bones. Talking innocence so
pure and magical, that no adult ear
could decipher the true meaning -
just the diction, the dry grammar, the
syntax. But the swirling and electric
connection, the funnel to the beyond,
was theirs and theirs alone.
His hand, her hand, both on the
handle of the green, plastic watering can.
Pouring water into sand, forming a tiny ocean,
and me raising a finger to wipe it dry.
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