they grow


They grow when we turn to place dishes for cleaning, surprise us with unexpected gestures of benevolence to siblings as we stand at the precipice of rattling worn reminders. Soft smiles in their eyes celebrate a pride that we see them this way, becoming and doing the thing where they see us as people, too. But in the very details of them, if we step back with held breath and soak them in, even as they grow, there is little in them still.