the last gift you have given me
the moment curled up under my arm
after showing me how helpless
we all are, how frozen, thinking
of what they do on tv,
or the advice of our mother's long gone
as you will be
showing me that there is an end
and it is not quiet and glowy
but often violence, not forecast,
as all our ancestors have died.
so I will protect you from
that as much as I can,
getting up early in the morning
to just be, or under the sun,
or waiting for breakfast,
before it starts, before it ends,
too soon.
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