Slow Children

All the quick children have gone inside, called
by their mothers to hurry-up-wash-your-hands
honey-dinner’s-getting-cold, just-wait-till-your-father-gets-home-

and only the slow children out on the lawns…
making soft little sounds with their
mouths, ohs
that glow and go out and glow. And their slow mothers
flickering,
pale in the dusk, watching them turn in the gentle air…

from “Slow Children at Play,” by Cecilia Woloch

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