At the park

The little girl

( i hate this place..)

She will be hours, alone

I have watched her half an hour

Alone

Playing alone

On the ancient stones

He, dad, is alone, too

 with her.

But to her 

no one is with her.

Because he

even on this rare decent day, the sunshine lighting up this wonderful place to play, and explore, and feel ...

and touch...

He, must be touching only one little touchstone

In touch

Via his little screen he winces at,  on his thigh

With everyone but 

her

(and  i can tell, i have sixth sense, plus attuned antenna to the order and structure - of the words,  he mutters as if to no one as she isnt in his little device...that  he  doesn't see

her often

i watched her so enjoying the ancient structures, he wasn't present enough to even bother with the autopilot  photo)