A child's tears

(For Lisa, someday)

Why are a child's tears so beautiful
seeming to chime with every drip
off cheek and chin
the tinkling of their tremble
gilding spiky lashes
with crystalline rainbows?
Perhaps it is the child's skin
smooth and poreless
the peerless clarity of which
provides the slate
that tears are writ upon,
each drop a note.
I am in awe of this child's tears
I cannot tell her do not cry
do not miss your mother's arms
do not tear me with your music.
And so I watch her weep
gathering up her salty sorrows
committing them to the well,
the deep and beautiful well,
of children's tears.