Let's take a walk, little one.
Outside is so white and fresh,
and we'll be the first to touch it.
It's cold, but I will hold your hand;
We'll skate on icy puddles
and catch crystals on our tongues.
This way, little one,
down the hill to the bridge.
The creek underneath cuts a frozen line
between us and the bigger world,
but don't be afraid-the other side is white, too.
Little one, you let go,
or maybe I let go. But either way,
some small thing fell off the bridge
and onto the ice far below-
a drop of red on so much white.
You are not hurt, little one,
but your mitten is gone,
and your hand is cold.
Stay here; stay safe
on this bridge between the worlds,
and I will climb down
to rescue what you have lost.
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