MY CHILDREN
Godfrey Green
They follow me to the hallway,
lambs at my side; eager to perform.
Petite bodies, fidgeting, squirming;
child voices puzzling out the pieces.
My hands move delicately, for I am a builder,
a mender. I am warmth, the balmy breeze,
scattering the seeds I hope will sprout.
My rainbow underside unfolds, expands.
I wait, watching as a hawk.
Instantly, I hook onto the childıs spirit.
Sometimes I grow wings and soar.
I carry my charges till they are swept away.
So much the children give me, without meaning to.
They all want to come with me!
They all shun me.