Little Jonah

Be still, baby brother
Little Jonah, still fighting
Not long, you will lie down and
Let them poke, prod, stick

You will be on the head of a mountain
With the things they're giving you

You've started molting, it's cute
With lilac warpaint under sleepy eyes
Face puffed with a tube or two
Running to you to the machine

The look of exhaustion visible in your skin
I know I silently let the tears fall
You're missing tee ball, we don't remember

It's nobodies fault you're sick
But we'd give ourselves for a cure
Save, Jonah

8-2-09