Little Bean
By Terra Wolfe
Oh little bean,
the sad day of your unbecomming
echoes green walls
bloody dreams.
The water of my life
has been defiled
with my own cowardice.
The lead of those days
is a forever monument
to expediency.
Tears cannot erode
its jagged edges.
I see your eyes
in every small face.
Your growing ghost
still reaches for me
in the night.
I have opened my arms
to the little ones,
become aunt to the world.
I hope
somehow
in their chubby arms
to hug you.
Copyright Terra Wolfe 2006
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