dreamed

I take stock, now,
to find
if any
remain
entire and
whole.
I want to
hold them
in my hands and try to breathe
them
gently back
to life.
I want to
do better
to them,
this second
time. I want to honor
them
and protect
them,
so I can pass
them on
to my children, so they have the
chance
to examine them
with their
own eyes,
with their
own hearts.
But, if not
damaged,
hurt,
then they
are
just
gone.
Like a wind
that blew
through too fast to be caught,
captured,
contained,
if wind
even can
be slowed
for perusal.
So, they will need
to find
their own. And all I can do
is hope
that
they
have better
luck with theirs.
I hope.
It is what’s
left.
It is what's
always
left.
Mostly.