procreation, 3

instead of
grandchildren

i birth poems
about and for
my parents

which
i rarely
show to them

i tuck
them away
in public
corners
of the
internet

and dwell
in the
uncertainty
of whether
they have
ever stumbled
onto them

never knowing
whether the pieces
delight or horrify

it is easier
for children
never to know
sometimes

sometimes
parents and
children
never know
one another

it is
a sad thing
but sometimes
more merciful