The Dreaded Last Step

No warnings.

Even with flip-flops,

The ground’s touch

Goes unmistaken.

You’re only a child

But you have traveled the broken fields often.

You’ve picked flowering weeds

For your mother,

Watched them whither

In waterless bottles.

Beneath our shattered roof,

You’ve held your eyes closed,

Wishing for better times to happen now.

You’ve squatted your body

Ever so gently

To sleep

Like now

Awaiting the morning.

You’ve stared all night Up through hole in the ceiling

At a starless sky

And another life

Seemingly never to come.

You’ve not wanted to uncurl

The comfort of remaining tight together

Just you and your dream.

You close your eyes

If only you could take back

Your last move,

Played just a little longer

Away from that final step.