a child with no name

This is the second poem in a series. Please start with the Introduction to this series here. And Reader Beware, these poems have a earned a Content Warning and include real, raw emotions and the grief of pregnancy loss.

a child with no name                              August 18, 2017
my own blood
with your dna
is all i have of you
to lay to rest

so i do
all i know to do
this alchemy
of running my blood and tears
in tracks on the page

perhaps i will write a book of you
so you can rest in peace
on a quiet library shelf
for my heart
is too small
to be your only casket

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
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1 Response to a child with no name

  1. Pingback: Everywhere but Here and an Introduction by way of Explanation | the liminal life of m

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