My arm stretches up,
squeezing her hand, stumbling through
a forest of legs.
Afterwards we’ll laugh. Why are
we always rushing to catch the boat?
Every time, the very last time!
But today is different. Special.
All the people, waving, smiling, sharing food,
the laughter and joy, tears and singing!
Mum has been crying all day.
She keeps rubbing my back, squeezing my
hand tighter. And I know why.
The bad people are
sorry. They’re letting us go.
We’re going to see dad.