Crossing Over

The child minder crosses
at the lights with a push-chair
and a little girl
in a pink, woolly hat.

The little girl is skipping.

I have never seen
an adult skip. When do we
forget the steps to
The Dance of Lambs in Spring?


16 January 2009


I'm not sure I've achieved what I wanted to with this poem, but I was struck by the two thoughts that stopping skipping is definitely a sign of crossing from childhood into adulthood, so it was ironic I saw this when the child was crossing the road; and that it's as if growing up involves forgetting something beautiful, like a dance (and skipping is, of course, sort of dance-like...) Hints of "A Dance to the Music of Time" as well, I suppose...