Across The Chasm
Some of you are smooth as summer ponds.
Some are bees
or grass blades bending.
Some girder yourselves against the grown-ups you will become.
Laser eyes, glacier eyes, brick eyes.
Eyes with sparkle. One of you hides
behind dark glasses and a hat.
We summon each other from across the chasm:
one with a fistful of treasure
one whose five-fingered cup opens toward the light.