Two scenes with children today. The first: after getting coffee, after lectures, I slowly leisurely poured the cream and sugar, then moved to the exit: full glass. On the reverse side a small girl about six or seven peered intensely through the door, not able to make out clearly I was waiting for her to move back. She: shoulder length brown hair, light olive skin tones. Finally, when I could open the door she asked me all innocent: “Do you know where my daddy is?” A quick survey of the outside patio revealed he was within earshot, just around the corner. She ran to him, her dress flung back in excitement of acknowledgment. “Yes!” He collected his child and waved at me appreciatively.
The second scene: tonight we walked to the community mailbox; junk mail again. No news. Heading back, a ten year old boy, shirtless and shoeless, ran past, brandishing a toy sword and scabbard— mind whirling with possibilities for wild adventure: explorer, pirate, soldier.
A book rests open
on the edge of the mattress,