Cold blowing rain shakes

drenched hedges and birds shiver.

The woodpile is soaked.

A little of their grace

I crawled in bed with Papa and lay down on his chest

In there with Mom and Papa and my head upon his chest

I heard the steady beating of the heart within his breast

And I felt the greying stubble on his cheek and chin

I saw in the light this morning the gray hair on his chin

I pressed my ear above his heart to hear the life within

His heart was low and slower, mine was quick and small

Greybearded, so much older, and I so safe and small

And he'll just keep getting older while I am growing tall

My mother reached her hand across and gently touched his face

I watched my mother wake and lean and softly kiss his face

I think that I this morning saw a little of their grace

I crawled in bed with Papa and lay down on his chest

In there with Mom and Papa and my head upon his chest

I heard the steady beating of the heart within his breast