October 2026 - Vol. 23, Issue 5

I lifted two small crutches last night and placed them

by the door. Some say children foretell joy,

and that may be so, but fragile bones strike fear

in my heart. One broke last year and its fracture

left a hollow right in her dreams. Children belong

in play, not alone in corners or concealed

beneath blankets or pajamas. I want all children to be free

to run, to fall, to laugh again without sorrow,

so long as it’s not in despair. I want to wake

at dawn, to walk outside and find the networks of wonder

they weave from their imaginations, to marvel at the droplets

of giggles glistening like tiny crystals in the lattice of their games.

I want to see their constructions as master works, their bright

eyes and tender hands as colored beads in intricate patterns

adorned with blue exes for hope and a border of stripes

depicting the four directions. Let my human cubs spin

a wild world in which they exist as co-creator, not mere observers,

and definitely not in a world like mine.