Sight Child

You smile so rarely.

Not that I blame you.

But when you do,

Not that grin of yours, because you got the old man again

(I know, I know, wrapped around this...)

But your smile

When it reaches your eyes,

Ah, such beauty!

It strikes at my heart.

For all that I might wonder

If you just smiled for my sake,

I would not trade your smiles for diamonds

Child of my heart,

I have seen two world wars.

And every day,

It seems the world spins

Faster.

You can barely remember twenty years ago.

Yes, of course you have your Sight.

But that’s different.

I know your treasure,

I see you pan for its tiny yellow grains.

Ignorance.

Silence.

Until I knew you,

I could not understand the allure.

Now neither of us can go back.

Make a wish.

I’m almost pleading.

A crone’s eyes stare from a maiden’s face.

A shrug.

A desperate sheath of ice.

Birthday candles that burn down fast

And gutter in white frosting.

You play with your kitten

And ignore my silly ritual.

The next year I leave uncrowned.

Do you have a death wish?

You slam the door

And the second hand laps at the font of your life.

I could call out to you,

But you are already gone.

Fourteen candles flutter and die in my mind.

Ten years,

That’s all we have.

Then five.

Then one.

Then . . . any day.

I will go on watching empires crumble,

And keep your rare smiles with me.

You dance on the edge of Atropos’ cliff

Heedless of my barking.

You are the needle of my eye, my dear.

You are the wind that has blown through my heart.