BABY NIGHTS.

A WOMAN REMEMBERS HER DEAD BABY

She can look out
On the city
And see all of

Ten thousand lights
And remember
The night baby
Died and feel that

Sinking feeling
Flow through her veins
And into her

Heart. The baby
Still seems to haunt.
The hospital
Ward is still there

And is often
Seen on passing.
The same building,

The same windows
Looking out. She
Knows that other
Mothers look out

There now, their small
Babies doing
Fine, crying and

Suckling, unlike
Mine, she muses,
Noticing the
Moon, the fullness

Shining, the stars,
Cold witnesses.
She keeps the date

And day in mind,
Marks it on her
Calendar, the
Letters, BD,

In dark black ink,
Symbolizing:
Baby died.  She

Can sit on a
Crowded bus and
Watch women with
Their babies, with

The cuddled hold,
The kissing of
Small brows, holding

Of tiny hands,
And suffer all
Again, the loss,
Knowing that and

The chill ever
Returning pain.
She can be at

Work and in
The office or
In the shop and
For a moment

Stop and stare at
Some women there,
Talking of their

Children or of some
Sudden birth or
Some mention of
The selfsame name

That she once chose
For her baby
Claimed by death and

Feel the pain in
Heart and catch of
Breath. Often she
Just waits for the

Passing of her
Day and all that
Busy seems, to

Go to sleep and
Hold her baby
In nightly dreams.