She fidgets with pen, papers loosed in motion

by flutter of anxiety’s fingers touching hair

to nose, sniffing, frowning

pulling braid across her eyes to hide

behind innocence that surrounds beautiful face

of woman she carefully conceals

no intention of revealing

how words imprint, internalize, eternalize

with wound or wing shaping

if she suffers or excels.

Eyes dart from teacher to me to squint

afraid speaking would say

she has wronged the intent

until a cappella she exquisitely sings

at mention of quieting our soul’s inquest

with music’s exhortation.

Graceful Grateful child with God’s imploring touch,

if only I could paint the depth to which you have

affected all present

hearing “I love you, Lynnie”

said across an open room where poets examine existence

and we forget how simple

acceptance and honor and purest meaning

are words we seek most.