On a Walk

My child is upset that they cannot jump over their shadow.

They want me to help them. They want me to teach them

how it’s done. The best I can do is an invitation

to jump over each other’s shadows instead. This satisfies them

for a moment and then the moment is gone. In sunlight

my shadow loves to give me a little dose of sorrow,

the beams having traveled so far only for the lump of me

to get between them and the ground. They came so close.

If I were the earth I would resent me too. My child

has gone into the next moment. I have to catch up. They say

they are riding a horse. They point and it drags them away.