sip the morning’s coffee hot and black
only from the smallest mug
else the bottom half grow cold

nap and 
call out upon waking
that you can no longer see

wave at the woman 
wearing a red hat
who is really our coat tree 

laugh at the height 
of the ceiling
in our “hotel”

cry when we  
bathe you, dry you,
change your clothes

sleep and
dream of your children
as children

forgive us 
for knowing these hard days 
won’t last for long