Where do children play?

Where do children play?

Their names carved in the keel

of the vessel in which they travel;

their margins, our boundaries,

their songs, pushed to the center

of what matters in our fallible and

sensitive lives, seeking responses

to the unknown.  Position yourselves

next to the mystery of their music.

Where do children play?

In time . . . that abstract glimmer

that does not bond to anything; 

the school of a submissive homeland?