Two Children

Two children, one dead and one dying.

One dead who feared he'd hurt others;
the other lost,
is, instead, even dead
to herself:

the coin toss I see as my children.

I acknowledge cost.
The interest eventually adds up to such heavy loss,
I must finally, irrevocably let go.

Loss is but a hole in the ground
marked by a stone
and the calm, essential invasion,
of forgiving moss.