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