You leave them with eyes wet and open
wet with tears
open with hope
and you travel the distance
between your hands and theirs
never knowing when the wetness stops
Does it even ever stop?
But you learn that eyes can close
one cold morning
or one hot summer night
it does not matter when
it matters that it does happen
and it matters that so many people wonder and ask: why did you travel all the way?
Ah the whys of life.
Where is my hatchet?
I wish I could bury them one day and be done.
Alas, our life time can be made of whys.
By Pacific Ocean listening to All Things Considered and Trump’s one page immigration proposal on January 25th.