Poem

The Child

A Child’s Wisdom

Image by snezana mihajlovic from Pixabay

Bearing the smile of another language,
she knows a joy I might once have felt.
Innocence thick around her, slow
and tender, sharp and quick.
Such a small mouth smiles so broad
her eyes take part.
How they view me a mystery:
puzzled, trusting, both?
She might tell me but
hers is a dialect I have lost.