Rest, sweet child.
You walked right past my window pane,
A quiet shadow in the street.
Something was wrong, I felt the pain,
Though time had yet our eyes to meet.
I didn’t know the reason why
An unexplained and heavy chill
Would linger as the days went by,
A sudden silence on the sill.
Then news arrived that stopped my breath—
A gentle soul too soon had flown.
You walked among us after death,
Your spirit lingering, alone.
I do not know why you would roam,
Or why your presence haunted me.
Perhaps you just felt safe at home,
Remembering what used to be.
For you were so much more than space—
A lovely child, a neighbor near,
With youth and kindness on your face,
And gentle words I loved to hear.
You were my friend, who stopped to stay
When afternoons were growing late,
Who kept the lonely hours at bay
To watch me craft and contemplate.
So rest, sweet child. Though you are gone,
And shadows fade in morning light,
Beside my work, your ghost lives on,
A quiet visitor of white.