Little Children

By Sisana Lazarus

Standing on the crescent edge Peering into salty water We are all the same Longing for the gifts we need Hear me Fear me Revere me

The day waits on no one Be they strong Or beautiful A clock ticks over and over Final trains in Final trains out The fire fades behind us

This cliff is sharp Not fatal The calling loud Not deafening To be the little children With our feet in the dirt Is the biggest leap we make