Hand in hand

The engine ticks quietly 

in the cold,
As we wait at the 

sleepy station 

for mommy's smile, 

a small voice floats up 

from the back seat:
"Daddy, I haven't 

told you this before..."

"Yes, sweet?" | mutter, 

half-distracted 

by the daily grind 

rattling in my head

"I feel really safe 

when I keep my hand in yours"

A frantic thought escapes 

my unwitting lips, hope 

or fear or both perhaps:
"But is it going to be 

big enough for you, sweet?"

Her reply rides 

a gentle moment 

fluttering softly to the ground:

"It will always be big enough, Daddy"