Day 611

What will he do now
without his children?
The one whose tangled hair
he brushed.  The one
whose shoes he tied,
crooning these are too
small, too small, too small.
The one he held
all night when she cried
from hunger.  What 
will he do without
their laughter? Without
their hands reaching
for his hands? How
will he use his arms
if not to pick them up?
How will he use his voice
if not to call them?