crossing the street

taking my two girls
to meet their sister
for the first time
we walk across a college campus

moving slowly
with freshmen and their parents
rushing past us
like a river around small rocks

my short steps
count out my awareness
of what I hold
in a sacred trust

in front of the hospital
I grip two hands
straining because the crosswalk
won't turn green fast enough

the man on the elevator
smiles at me and says
"If you let go of them,
they'll be twenty"