Tired Eyes
Your tired eyes
close the sky
and stars go cold.
I hear your soul
in our son's
first fragile words.
All this waiting
on Heaven
is for the birds.
Here is now
and where we live
in place of if and when.
The sun crows
our morning awake
with no need for dreams.
A notion dawns
that we are all we have
when the world spins away.
Your tired eyes
reflect the struggle
between alive and living.
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