A child in the supermarket,
clutches tightly their mother’s hand
makes micro-observations;
the height of the ceiling
and where the pipes may go,
counting the tiles on the floor
and creating an equation to match.
what direction the shadows are cast.
It is a human desire to wonder – what if?
Allowing minute, insignificant things to manifest and grow
a trait often exclusive to a child’s psyche.
But by no fault of their own
a child
entranced by the ceilings
the floor tiles and the shadows
might not be so wary of the bigger things in front of them;
usually a pole, sometimes a window
but rarely a person
another child
who much the same would
never realise the other was there.
Fate wouldn’t bear good news, nor would it caution them
their paths would just cross prematurely
each afforded the other’s presence
ten years too early and without
the butterflies.
In the meantime, they fade
each clutching their mother’s hand
going their separate ways until they meet again.
For now, to each other, just shadows, only foreshadows.
