You take her hand to hold

When she is cold,

And walk along the sidewalk

Taking photographs across the street.

But she never smiles

Into your camera,

But her eyes

Wander past the lens and tell you

The story you want

To be told.

 

In the silence

You tell her it is alright to frown,

And that the sun will come

And find her

Once again.

 

Years have passed and you’ve held

Her hand through all

her darkness, fear and pain.

She meets you at the altar

And again she takes your hand,

But the smile never returned to her

Face

And it is still her eyes

That hold you

In this space.

 

In the silence

You tell her it is alright to frown,

And that the sun will come

And find her

Once again.

 

Across the shore

Her hand in yours

She is wearing the dress she made

To hide her knees.

And her belly swells

As she builds your family in her womb;

And you still smile for the both

Of you.

But her eyes

Tell you the story you want

To be told.

 

In the silence

You tell her it is alright to frown,

And that the sun will come

And find her

Once again.

 

You look back

At those photographs

With your daughter on your knee.

These are now the

Only hands you have

To hold

Her mother wandered

From this world so long

Ago.

And while on your knee she wants to know

Why she never smiled

In the photographs;

And you tell her you don’t know.

 

Now in the silence

You watch a motherless child

Fall asleep.

Not the man you used to

Be.

And in the silence

You don’t complain,

Instead you turn your back

On your heart that breaks

And

Smile for the wife you used to

Know.