Small Things

Small Things.

Springs, cogs,
wheels gleaned
from a watch.
Magnets, rivets, marbles.
Ball-bearings
filmed with oil.
A stone, polished, fits
perfectly between my
thumb and three fingers.

I am her
third best friend.
A shy finger from
a glowing child
points, picking me
out of a crowd.
Smiling, she runs
quick-footed laps,
defying calls
to be careful.

Sometimes
what seems simple,
ordinary, unremarkable
holds all of
the beauty
I can hope for.