At Moon Mountain Elementary School

For Christopher Michael Simpson, wherever and whoever you are

I see the stop sign and the crossing guard,
The backpacks and sneakers and skirts;
They giggle and dance while wearing the wardrobe
Of the larger world.

They seem to welcome it, it’s as easy
To play adult as it is to play a leprechaun;
Everything about them is lightness and motion,
And all of it weighs me down.

What have I done, or not done, for my kids,
When neither I nor they nor the world could stop
And I couldn’t pick them up,
Their will, like time, was far too strong.

Amid my guilt, I hear Jesse’s voice
Asking me for juice from the top-most shelf;
He thanks me when he gets it, and promptly forgets it all
As he dives into more play.

Do I know them as little as they know me?
Do we both agree that I only chase the yarn
That springs off from them, that resembles
Unsettled lint of my own?