I see him searching.
Determined.
He is looking for things
That most people have long forgotten.
His bright eyes longing and tiny fingers reaching.
Maybe one day he’ll find it.
Maybe one day he’ll reach it.
Maybe one day he’ll even show it to me
Like a prize he has gathered
With all the glee he can muster.
And then I will remember searching too
Once…
When I was young and innocent.