Adult Supervision, White Horse Beach, 4th of July
by Timothy L. Marsh
I couldn't tell what kind of rocket it was
as he placed it on the hardpack
and led her cheerfully to the fuse,
practically doubled-over
for she was no more
than the height of his hip.
And she must have, I think,
honored her daddy very much
because she moved without contention,
but with the stiff determined inching
that seizes a child's stride
when the fear of disappointing
exceeds that of the challenge... [continue reading]
