Five Children I

Five Children I

Once helped conceive,

I watched them grow

I watched them leave,

And each one left

A wound in me,

And some left two

And some left three.

 

And now when I

Cry out in pain

There’s not one left

To call my name,

There’s not one left

To grieve for me

Though I wept through

Each history.

 

But when they grow

They may conceive,

May learn to know

What wounds we leave,

And think back on

Some long despite

When I lay staring

Late at night.

 

David Lewis Paget