I kiss your sloppy hands <br />before I wash them. <br />You don't resist my care. <br />Instead your head falls back, <br />and a tiny yawn creases your cheeks. <br /> <br />Your eyes shut tightly, <br />and I wonder what they see <br />inside your head. Is there another <br />darkness there, different from the night? <br /> <br />Or do you see a light <br />that only children know, <br />a light so dim in me <br />it can no longer trick my eyes?<br /><br />Daniel Brick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/washing-the-baby/
