You master crawling a spark of rushing energy I shut doors in your path as you crumble beneath me “My job is to keep you safe, my love” I whisper, and turn you back “I must keep you safe” I explain as I pull your small body down from the heights of the couch hold your squirming hand at the ocean’s edge remove sharp scissors from your reach and catch you at the curb You climb ever higher into the canopy of trees you do not look back I steady myself below You delight in smashing rocks I buy you safety goggles “Safe” I say, also loving the excuse to caress your face “Keep you safe” I explain as I clutch you to me in the crowd at the airport once more we fly to see your grandparents Decades ago, I did not look back and I did not foresee the price “Safe” I tell you as you shove against your car seat in a line of cars stretching to eternity in the SUV I bought to protect you when everyone warned my tiny fuel-efficient car was not enough It is my most important job I stop you from touching the river which has bloomed with algae in the mega-drought It is my most important job I adjust your N95 as we stumble from home to classroom in smoke as thick as night My most important job to keep you safe, I strap on your helmet made of plastic that will haunt the oceans of your lifetime brought by barge and truck that have poisoned your tomorrow At COP 26 they say The people most affected by climate change are no longer some imagined future generation but young people alive today Holding you as you sleep my tears dampen your hair It is my most important job to keep you safe