The Child-Keeper Poem by Amanda J Harrington

All the children come to me and I carry them,

Close and forlorn

In great, heaving sacks,

Split up the sides so eyes spill out

And hands, gasping for the air

Feel freedom and never touch it.



Small bags at my front

For tiny babes in arms

Whose screams are deafened by the weight

Of my care.



My old and weary body sways,

Stepping sideways, the path always rocky

As the children struggle and send me wide.



Sometimes they shake so that one falls away

And I lose it, even as I grabble in the long grass

Knowing this one finds its way home, safe.



I wonder if they choose the one to live

And combine their efforts to save it?

Watching through gaps with gleaming eyes

As the freed one leaps, limber and quick,

Out of my reach.



I leave it and travel on,

There are always more children.