today analeigh gave
a single fragile blink
before bursting into
tears--I've never seen
a child cry.


I've seen children cry.
but from a distance, across
the counter, in the aisle over.
I've seen hundreds of scrunched
faces and balled fists, dozens of
raised voices dismissed in popular
clutter but

when she dipped her head and fell
between the cracks, lost in between
vowels and performance orientation
before I could catch the things that
had been said and suddenly
i was aching, welling, raging
holding--tucking little strands
of wet hair behind blushing ears
and my voice was new and not
mine--soft and assuring
no, no, sweet girl

you are so smart
breaking a bit
for a baby
folded into
social constructs

she cried
and I broke
for her.