An industrious toddle escaped
the ravenous escalator as its chomping teeth
receded nearly underfoot, a hunger
refusing to crumble.
Should this child —
claiming all 10 toes by the grace of
toddler intuition — grant clemency to
the peckish conveyance for lowering itself
to our most base levels?
What of the parents? You would
be forgiven for refusing them absolution
for their negligence, clutching
a phone and counting likes
on both hands.
I lean to lenience. We have survived
parenthood to this point asking only
for mercy in our lowest moments,
repenting of sins of omission but never
forgetting the ride can sometimes
Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019
Written for the Poets United Midweek Motif : “forgiveness”