Sonnet VII from 'Summertime' Sequence Poem by Susan Glickman

The little boy's hand, his hand full of trust,
trustingly offered to the bigger boy
as, without looking back, he walked away
from his mother to be beaten to death. Almost
more than I could bear, seeing in that slight back
turned forever, leaving forever, yours
as you walk off innocently towards
some horror I will fail to expect
or, worse, anticipate but not forestall.
Whenever I'm not holding you I know
nothing's childproof: no house, school, shopping mall,
no car, no bicycle. Nowhere to go
on God's green earth where children cannot fall
from mothers' arms. No. Nowhere to go.