Your teeth were small,

All twenty, sparkling white, set in your impermanent smile;

Twenty, as short and blunt as your fingernails.

Your hands were small, too,

As they rested in mine-

Mine, which were so much bigger,

So much older.

Dear child,

Though circumstance has pulled us apart,

I think ever of the day when I can see you again,

And mirror your smile,

And take your hand, a bit bigger, in mine.