Friday, 8 April 2016

Miscarriage

Keeper-of-melancholy, madnened-by-rain
Many mantles I wear, many faces unseen
Mother to a soul that is hidden to the world
I await your birth in an alternate universe
Create little pools of happiness from dribbles,
Golden auras of snug from mud-tainted fingers
And hum not-to-be-repeated-lullabies
Into never-to-be-seen tiny ears
I sleep in red blankets and wake up 
drenched in warm shreiks
Giggle daily in your special way
At my minuscule-giant hint of gay
And wonder if each single day 
You dream of me as the cool moon ray






No comments: