For a family grieving a stillbirth.
If you took out the pain
and held it up to the light,
would it look like
something that belonged to you?
Or would it look like someone else’s fate,
by an absent-minded God,
who’d forgotten that you’d taken out love insurance?
Or would it look like your karma,
reflecting from your life mirrors,
clear and unambiguous,
like everything else in your life?
Or would it look like what it is,
there and inescapable,
painful, inexplicable, ambiguous,
and tattooing a face on your heart
that will live forever?
Take out tomorrow
and hold it up to the light;
and make it look like something that belongs to you.