child death
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Dark places
No sound
Was this my familiar bed and place?
Or was this new and strange.
Only smells and touch to tell me
I was restrained to my bed
For I was unable to grow.
I was loved
I hear the sound of water,
gurgling, flowing, breathing with life
The sound of water slapping stones,
pushing past the verdant reeds
I hear the water join the song of a child,
To the 2 yr old boy unresponsive from the accident on the 215 highway
Laying at umc
Your mother is in front of the chapel
On her knees
