THE CHILD

I see the child

in the garden, her head

filled with the wind,

and her eyes in the summer of children

bright as the sun;

I hear her laugh

in the garden, her mind

swallowed in dreams,

and her mouth in the learning of children

full of the sun.

I watch her dance

in the garden, her face

determined and lent,

and her limbs like the gallows of children

crossed in the sun

I love the child

in the garden, a voice

that I once knew,

and remember the growing of children

lost in the sun.

by my late husband ALEX written in the 70's