They gave him only
hours
nothing could be
done.
She pleaded for the
release
to hold close her tiny
son.
Precious was her
time
to look into his
eyes,
to hold him, to touch
him,
to hear his feeble
cry.
His hours spawned a
day
only moments in
flight;
then in her arms he was
gone
like a whisper in the
night.
Messages were
imprinted
with four tiny
hands.
One set was faded for the
one
who could not
withstand.
She changed both
their names
giving half of one to the other
to carry through his
life
a part of his twin
brother.
Her heart will always
weep
for the one who could not
stay
who deeply touched her
life
in his lifetime of a
day.
Copyright 2003 by Carol
Barton
Mail To
Carol
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