I see little hands.

They played over the water. Once.

I see little hands. Little hands holding. Holding on. Tight. So tight.

Those little hands clinging. To a dress. A shirt. Any piece of clothing will do.

I see little hands grasping. For mom. For dad. For anything. Anyone.

Those little hands.

Little hands reaching. Up. Higher. Pushing harder. For something. For air. Just a little bit will do for little lungs.

Little hands splashing. Slapping water. Fighting water. So much water for such little hands.

Those little hands. I see those little hands.

Little hands searching. For me. For you. For us.

Those little hands.

Those cold little hands. So cold. Blue.

Gripping.

Even just my little finger would do. They are so little. Just a little bit would help. They will hold on forever if they could. Hold on to me. My little finger for those those little hands. That will do.

I see little hands.

Still.

So still.

Just quiet little hands.

I see little hands. I see little hands do nothing.

Just little hands. Still. Not moving. Ever again.

Those little immigrant hands. Those illegal little hands. Those fleeing little hands.

I hope it gets a warm hug somewhere.

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