In this house, where so many <br />children were stillborn, <br />ghosts slobber and roar. <br /> <br /> <br />These are my siblings <br />reflections of the fierce <br />and wild storms of my heart. <br /> <br /> <br />They crash about the kitchen, <br />sending chairs flying, <br />overturning the table, <br />ripping the doors from their hinges. <br /> <br /> <br />Their sorrow is beyond forgetting. <br />They will never love, never dream. <br />Yet I will hold them always, <br />or until they are erased <br />by the wind.<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wind-carries-memory/
