Hers is the child's face
at the window
the face which won't leave my mind, .
The longing there,
the voice says
how long til help comes?
In every meeting
even if the room is windowless
I see her face
hear that voice
and I think
we working for you in here;
it won't be long.
Every meeting
has a judge
whether what I am doing there
helps her.
Every conversation, deed and thought
has a judge
whether it helps her,
every urgency
has a queue
and she stands at the front.
Every heart beat
carries hers first.
If there is nothing being done in the room
for her
I leave.
Lonnie Hicks
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/child-face/
