Tiny Hands

How do you remain in the land of the living

when everything you love

is no longer here?

How do you wake in the morning

knowing that one day you won’t remember?

The laughter or the tears

You are the guardian of their memory

As the world moves on

To them it’s just another news clip

To you, it’s the whole world

There will be no small voices inquiring

“why”

A day that is so ordinary has been marked

stained

with knowing

Reaching for tiny hands

watching them disappear

fading back into what used to be

There is no present

no future

only what used to be