Jackie asked me
\nwhy the fly was dead.
\nI told him it was lost.
\nIs it sleeping Papa? he asked.
\nIt\u2019s sleeping Jackie, I said,
\nwaiting for its Mama.
\nWhy did it get lost? Jackie asked.
\nIt went too far away, I replied,
\nand there was nothing to eat.
\nAnd it died Papa? Jackie exclaimed.
\nYes, Jackie, it died.
\nWill its Mommy find it? he asked.
\nIf we let it stay where it is,
\nits Mommy may find it, I said.<\/p>\n
He looked at the fly sadly.
\nPoor little fly, he said,
\nputting it in his palm.
\nYour Mommy is coming.
\nI reassured him she would.
\nIs it empathy?
\nIs it sympathy?
\nThe concern for the small,
\nthe love for a life.<\/p>\n
Jackie lives
\namong the lives around him.
\nTheir lives live in his own.
\nJackie shows Papa.
\nAre we lost?
\nHave we died?
\nDo we wander away
\ntoo far?
\nWill Mommy find us?
\nA child knows.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Jackie asked me why the fly was dead. I told him it was lost. Is it sleeping Papa? he asked. It\u2019s sleeping Jackie, I said,…<\/p>\n