Is it in the hug of a just-sleeping child
As he hooks and pulls you into the crook
of that sweet space between his shoulder and cheek
Or, in the thousand grains of sand
that bend and flow to accommodate
toes dip in.
Or the bracing wind that shimmies into the seams of
your cold weather wear and freeze the
tip of your nose.
It might always be in the echoes of glee as
free-flowing laughter dances between
you and they
with smiles that trade like sparks and stars and candlelight.