when my sons were tiny
standing at my side
each set of wee arms
wrapped around my pant legs
it was so easy to cover their faces
with my hands
turning their twin blonde heads in toward
my widened hip love and apron

to keep them from seeing
bloody clashes
crashes
and the cruelty of this life

but now they are tall and free
so much bigger than me
and my hands cannot reach far enough
to hold the innocence in their eyes