Absent Children

I can no longer count the tears,
Endless and silent they have fallen.
Not heavy enough to make impression in dust,
Nor loud enough to startle feeding birds.
Just enough to remind me you have gone.

Way, way beyond the measured mile.
You wake without me, carry on your life,
In parallel to mine.
Nothing I can write, read, hear or say,
Will suggest that you are near.

Far, far away you sleep,
Not knowing I am even here at all.
But yet one fine May morning,
I will carry this love sodden heart to you,
And will die a thousand gasping deaths,
At my first clear sight of you.

By then you will be old enough to pass the moment,
With a manly shaking of the hand.

If only you could know.

Neil Graham Marsden.