A big hand holds a little hand
As smaller legs pump to keep up
Walking to the bus stop
On the cool Autumn morn
The little yellow bus arrives
To the squeal of brakes
The squeak of doors
And the sounds of bubbling voices
Small legs pump up stairs
As backpack crumples jacket
Then at the top a turn, a smile
A wave and "Goodbye, Mommy!"
And then they were no more.
Oh, Newt...so sad.
ReplyDeleteIt breaks my heart.
Oh my god. You just broke my heart. Again.
ReplyDeleteYesterday morning, as I was riding the PATH train into the WTC, I saw a young boy, maybe two-and-a-half, and I noticed him because of his bright, white sneakers. Little feet, in little white shoes, and it was just so cute. Then this tragedy happened. Suddenly, I saw those little shoes and thought about my daughter, and it all fell into place. I remembered 9/11. I remembered Aurora. I remembered every moment where I left for work, kissing my sleeping daughter. It just came out.
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