And your mother she did all she could,
And me, along in tow; but nothing could we do:
But face the fact of desolation row.

For decades we have lived with this
And tried the best we can,
But Kieran’s very absence
Has left me as I am.

the sadness of sundays
persists
even amidst
the various
reds, yellows, browns and golds
of stormy autumn

and as I walk
I have in mind
the fragility of a veined
porcelain
hand

and who am I to resist
this child's
every imperative?