Where are they – the little ones

who have suffered more deeply

than any child should suffer at

their young and tender age –

the death of their mother, who

carried them in the warmth of

the womb and held them following

the trauma of birth, which some

think to be Adam and Eve’s fall?

Where are they after holding

her soft hand trick or treating

and wearing the costume she

made for them not to mention

being held in her arms in the

holiness of the baptism before

which they were told of and

seeing the pride in her eye at

graduations?

They, the children of their mother,

have survived, endured and per-

severed to hold their own babies

in the comfort of their arms, to

walk them in the neighborhood

on Halloween but sometimes,

in the silence of the night, when

their spouses are sound asleep,

they hug a pillow and weep.