Watching My Friend’s Child
—poetry by Adina Cassal

Five years old and full of magic
he revels in the wonder
of the backyard sprinkler
running around it
like chasing rain
his skin and his innocence
mix with the rays
of the afternoon sun as
he throws his head back
laughter satiating the minutes
with the sweet exuberance
of the wet cold colliding
with bare chest, legs, arms
at every step of this summer dance
round and round and round
he goes, savoring blue drops
sticking out his tongue
to catch some more
bending his body at times
to mimic the arc
of the stream that rises and falls.
I stay dry.
Later, he will pick up an earth worm,
give it a name and blades of grass,
show me his Spiderman
dinner plate and tell me
he can't wear pajamas tonight.
He will blink his eyes, yawn, shed a tear
and stay up past frayed story books
and broken lullabies
just to listen

for the key at the door.

Adina Cassal has resided in the Washington, DC area all her adult life. Before that, she lived in six countries and acquired a love of languages, music and cats. She works providing human services to people she deeply respects. She has been published in Alimentum as well as previously in The Commonline Journal.