My Children

At night I walk the streets

To find my children

 

The ones without homes

Or families

Or places to go

 

I find a different one each night

And leave a gift for them

 

Hope

Desire for a new life

The seeds of happiness wedged in their brains

Or simply the will to change

 

My children are stubborn and afflicted

So I walk the streets and change them one by one

But there are so many of them

 

I come across a young man

Sleeping on a stoop

Only a thin raggedy sheet around his thin and sickly shoulders

He’s shaking

 

I rest my hand upon his quivering shoulder

All his memories flood me

            A nice family

            A beautiful home

            A good college

 

            Drugs

            Alcohol

            Aids

            This stoop

 

And I whisper

            My child

            Have the hope and the will and the desire for a new life, your old life

            You can change

 

As I take my hand slowly from his bony back

He stirs

            Why?

            He asks

            Why are you helping me?

 

Because

You are my child