A question met with silence.
Innocent eyes– so young
Burdened by salty jewels.

One fell,
Then another
And another, and another.

The little girl stared,
Wide eyes empty forevermore
Of their liquid riches

She knew the truth.

No matter what they thought
No matter what lies
Sought to comfort her,
She knew

The boy in the bed
With the wooden lid
Was not sleeping.

No.

That child– her playmate
Would never, ever wake
Never live

Never laugh, never
Run as they once did                                
Through a field of
Dainty yellow trumpets.

And as they lowered him down
Into the uncompromising dirt,
She curled up

And slept beside her brother

While the daffodils bent their heads
And their mother led her away,
Unaware that she had been left behind.