Little Children, Little Hands

To the first, barefoot, beside me
No words, just the little hand,
The local coin, put in his palm, I feel his fingers close
It is all his hand can hold, so small, his hand.

The second, my English change
A little silver, coppers, a few pennies
In his little hand.

That’s it, no more, no more
Non, non,
The pocket, the wallet, the notes
The lie
Non, no more.

Dakar Feb 07