your small hand in mine
we crunch through leaves
I walk, you dance
tugging on my arm, pulling me along
you bend to pick it up
-the perfect leaf
bright red, shiny
it matches your wellies
twirling the stalk in your fingers
you talk of dinosaurs, monsters, fairies
the real and magical jumbled on your tongue
I try- and fail- to answer questions
but that doesn’t matter
and we keep going,
the two of us, walking, dancing
talking our way up the road.
a wee bit blue 