Frail envelope of flesh,
lying cold on the surgeon's table
with anguished eyes
like your mother's eyes
and a heartbeat weak, unstable...
Frail crucible of dust,
brief flower come to this—
your tiny hand
in your mother's hand
for a last bewildered kiss...
Brief mayfly of a child,
to live six artless years!
Now your mother's lips
seal up your lips
from the Deluge of her tears...
Michael Burch
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sandy-hook-frail-envelope-of-flesh/
