Here are the mothers fathers grandparents guardians
Waiting. Quetly, watchful.
Inside, our children play together
Just beyond the glass window that separates us.
Some of us try to capture moments precious in their fleeting-ness with cameras
Instructors, young almost-still-children themselves
They are energetic, playful, skillful
Our children laugh, jump, tumble run
While we watch, sitting quietly with our thoughts behind the glass
watching over them
thnking perhaps of laundry, errands, other worries
separated by our thoughts
But here, togther this moment, for our children.