This little child counts.
No more, no less.
touching the flesh of others freely,
moving in stumble step.
Staring at new eyes, giggling,
even falling, crying with the bump,
reaching to hands willing
to lift
to guide
to support…
to be left alone again…
This little child counts-
no more, no less
being born to life
every moment of her living…
no more, no less.
Poems by Ken 