I hear a tiny footstep from the past
A whimper from the room just down the hall
I try to capture them and make them last
But soon they fade away and high hopes fall
The walls are filled with moments etched in time
Sweet memories of little ones abound
I labor to preserve such things sublime
Until reality comes back around
And so it is, they’ve grown, and left the nest
That once provided them with all their needs
And found their place out there among the rest
Of all I’ve ever done, they’re my best deeds

My heart will keep the little ones inside
While marveling at the seeds I’ve sown, with pride.