You walked in, like someone big walks,
When they know what it is to hold, to cover,
Something so tender, so vulnerable;
so many things that you did, my dear,
so many things that you said;
You moved so entirely aware,
Of the children running around at your feet,
The slightest smile, so bittersweet, for what was denied you;
so many things that you did, my dear
so many things that you said;
And the startling, empty space beside you,
Eternally small, just barely at your knee,
A space still protected, a grief still shielded;
so many things that you did, my dearÂ
so many things that you said;
A volume of sorrow was spoken,
Though yet not a word was uttered or said,
And the same for the hoped for dreams once thought broken;
all of the things that you did, my dear,
all of the things that you said;