Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Shadow

Hello bleakness my old friend.
How comfortable you are.


I think of parallel-world me –
at six weeks there would have been a heartbeat;
at Christmas, an announcement; by Mother’s Day,
almost a mother; and in June, a baby –
and I live in her shadow.


How to classify those four days I took off from work
when filling out my time sheet?
My options: medical, vacation, personal, bereavement.
I know which one fits the best – the last of these.
But does it count?


Where are you now?
Nowhere?
In heaven, like my mom thinks?
“What is lovely never dies, but passes into other loveliness,
Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.”
Are these pretty lies to keep us sane?


Would you have lived if I were not flawed?


In one week they will examine my blood for traces of you.
The hope of the doctor is that there will be none.
“When the level gets down to zero, you can try again.”
Try again – as if it’s a ring toss at a carnival.
Hit the balloon with a dart and win a baby.


Will I light a candle for you on Day of the Dead?
Will people think I’m crazy if I do?
If it happens again – if I win at ring toss –
will I ever stop watching for blood?


Where are you now?
Nowhere?

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