what's fragile

They are machines made of flesh, these boys.  Sturdy legs and beating hearts.
Minds that do not stop, eyes lit from behind.  Oxygen in, perceptive interrogation out.
I watch them and become again aware of what miracles they are, so well put together, so alive.

My children are constant reminders of what’s fragile and what’s robust.
And more often then not, it’s the very same things.