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by Gordon Edwards

She holds her tiny hand
out from her station
in a sea of toys,
arm extended to the point
of a finger not larger
than the barrel of a pencil.
It is her sign,
mostly of curiosity,
to know what it is,
she punctuates with
an emphatic "dat?"
but also a bond
and call
to her grandfather
who earlier toured
with her
this local Eden,
in his arms
to each picture, plant
and tick-tock clock.
He now has paused
and leans over
from his cluttered desk
across the barrel ceiling
of space and time
from a generation
to a generation,
finger extended
to touch her outstretched
point of self.
Glowing, connected,
she is a timeless portrait
of the moment,

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Document last modified on: 05/04/1997

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