Sometimes used to think that babies could only dwell

In their special realm, of sweet baby smells;

Tidy white crib, with the even spaced bars.

Pony lamps too, pink and yellow and blue.

And sweet tasting sugary medicines

To help the sick babies get better again

And such soft, cottony diapers

Held with pastel-headed pins:

All softness and gurgle and coo.

But even baby has to go away sometimes;

The little blue eyes glaze over

Like a doll's soulless eyes, of factory hardened glass

That only can stare in one direction now;

And their sweetly puffed blushing cheeks

Become multi-colored, like the rainbow-

Only, there's too many colors now

In soft mud then, we must plant carefully

The little stilled hearts;

While we will tell them, they're only playing a part

In Jack and the Beanstalk.

And if you listen attentively, on some cold-bitten night,

Around the edges of the wind's cacophony

You might hear inconsolable crying, again