I remember you
four years old
and in the system
a system that tosses kids around
like balloons
expecting them to float without help
expecting them never to deflate
I moved around too back then
seldom in the same house twice
just casual work, they said
a caregiver
it's easy, they said
you can pick the ages
you don't have to work with the teenagers
I only saw you that one time
in that house on Harbison
the house where the shooting happened
some time later
the house where the nine-year-old
stole a knife from the kitchen and wouldn't
give it back to me
But those were different days on Harbison
harder days than my day with you
when I saw you, there was a lightness there
a happiness that I wanted to bottle up
infuse into all the other children that couldn't find it
that didn't know light was ever
theirs for the taking
We went for a walk that day
I remember you talking, walking beside me as your feet
kicked at stones and fallen branches
You didn't seem to know you didn't have a home
that you were in a shelter waiting
another foster family
another place to pretend
I was so young then too
only twenty-five and not yet a mother
I wanted to wrap you up and take you with me
I wanted to be strong and be all
that you would need
but I knew I was not what you needed
and I knew that the answers were not so simple, and plain
You'd be an adult now
twenty-five or twenty-six
like I was back then
I'm scared to think of what the world has done
how badly it might have hurt you
I want to believe that you found a way
to hold onto your light
Perhaps you did go home
to your own family that was stronger and
able to care for you
maybe you finished high school and
even went to university and now you've
got a great job and you wake up happy every day
your life full of people to love and people who love you
I know that's all improbable
silly, wishful thinking that is naive and full of privilege
I know those stories are the exception
not the rule
and so my heart aches for you and all the others
the babies and toddlers and teenagers
the nine-year-olds with butcher knives
But when my heart hurts
I remember your lightness
in the dark
I remember your smile
and your chatter
and your understanding that in that moment
you were loved
© 2022 Shirley Hay