We were visited by a baby
yesterday.

It felt good to bow
into her glittery brown eye level,

To speak of whatever came to mind
which was mostly about her truth
and blossoming beauty

Knowing she would not judge
and would listen
patiently
as long as I might care
to continue our song
of aging story.

Her response,
to continue sleeping
or to smile
while feeling
feeding eye to eye
mutual warmth

This is what I remember
wanting most
to speak about,

To remember
on this Memorial Day

Visited not yet by a victim
of war
but by a wise innocent
for peace.