Charity

They call this a gentle kind of charity
A wry smile in the night
A cool touch
We count our pennies as blessings
Watch our teeth fall down the sink
Time ticks on
And we have yet to write the story
All is quiet in the day
We wait for visitors
Scan the fence
Watch out the window
It feels as if we are always waiting
What will come will come
What we need will be forgotten
Such is the heat of the hours
All is magic and frost
Time forced to an end
A gentle kind of charity
I wipe the hair from her face
And sink into dreaming
All is quiet in the day.