would be to retain at the end
a child's mind at sunset—
to leave the field of light
without explanations, fascinated
by all we've just seen;
but "how?"We don't
care. And "why?"
We don't know yet.
Would we could be,
when night comes,
who we were then:
head a room of treasures
whose costs we weren't meant
to understand,
waiting to be held,
to be flown off
to bed, to be told
whom to kiss,
to say "yes"
without regret.
