through a child’s eyes
i watched you go
and did not understand
why you left
the picture i made for you
on the windowsill
in the sterile hospital.
i put
much love
into the crayon drawing –
and there it lay,
while your bed
was cold and empty…
you did not
take it with you.
i do remember
when you were sick,
dying already
(i didn’t know, wasn’t told…
too much for a child’s mind to bear?)
how you lifted your covers
for me each day
and i
could climb
into the warm softness
of your sweet embrace.
and then
you were gone –
my mother’s eyes red and tired
and i didn’t know why.
i do not know
where you went
but i long
to feel the sweet comfort
of crawling under those covers
again.
Another Wandering Soul 