Late
sunlight glides
past her
bare leg and I see
the whole
length of her
there in the open doorway
growing up
strong and perfect -
golden hair
hangs long against
her shoulder
and for one breath
I see the
baby in the woman
and know all
of her. The mystery returns,
just as
quickly, though, when she looks up
to find me
staring and she smiles,
almost
shyly, in my direction.
Her hands
are still dirty
and her body
warm from the labor
of weeding
my flower bed after dinner
to raise
cash for “the animals.”
She and her
sister spent the afternoon
collecting
garbage from their friend’s beach;
Coke cans,
tobacco cans, chunks of Styrofoam
in all
sizes, plastic water bottles, a comb…
Floating two
giant plastic sacks up the beach,
walking
through the edge of a glittering sound,
the three
girls chattered their hope for other beaches
to clean,
for animals to “save,” and I recognized
the
beginnings of addiction. I wonder
whether
their openness to Earth’s beauty
will
diminish in their knowledge of human
disrespect
and their new-found desire
to do-good on her behalf.
She shakes
the jar with its eight quarters
that I have
placed there per our agreement
and smiles
at me again, straight on this time,
proud. I can see love for “the animals”
drawn across
her face, so I smile back,
my heart in
a vice for the perfect world
we gave to
her, now broken. The secret’s out.
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