A Year of Poems – Day 268

A parent guides a child with a hand.
In the grocery store they wander
One of them toddling in the lead
But turning back at the touch of a hand.

I am no pure romantic,
I know the child runs
I know she tries to turn away
I know he disobeys

But the hand is always guiding
Always pulling towards the right
Then I looked back towards my guiding hands –
It was right as they saw the right.

Which is not to say that they’re all wrong
Their iron just has clay in it,
we can only see as the iron weathers
and we find ourselves in grocery stores again.

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