Green Light

I reach for my daughters' hands

at the crosswalk.

Their miniature fingers orbit mine

in concentric circles,

landing with the force 

of a double sun.

"Look, Papa," the youngest says,

"Our hands are hugging!"

The light turns green.

They break away,

skipping headlong

into the crosswalk.

Traffic descends 

like a meteor shower.

"Wait!"

By the time I catch up,

they're already stitching

new constellations.

My heart arrives

a few seconds later.

**First published in In Parentheses literary magazine