Part innocent

Green seaweed
hangs near the corner
of her mouth.
She is seven
chubby
unaware.
She eats her chips
alone as the sun
sets and her mother cares
for the younger ones
and the sea
crawls up the beach.
The children around us
splash and shriek
part innocent
part threatening.
I know in my bones
if anyone is mean to her
I will be ferocious
when I tell her
I am proud
to sit beside her.
But I must go now
and the impossibility
of protecting her
is enough
to make me weep.