Before The Miscarriage.

A shape on grained alkaline made me weep, Part of me was forming impatiently, In the crib of her womb asleep, And I had already thought of her name, ‘Dannara’ I was in love all over again. Ominous Greeting cards of congratulations arrived, Superstition kept them sealed, I kept them for the big day, Along with latin translations of her name, Every night the atheist would pray, Faith had seduced me, I was spiritual and tame. One night she was kicking, I ran down the stairs so fast, The carpet scorched my toes, Then I felt the skin press against my cheek, A force of nature from such tiny feet. This was my baby who never found her way, The one thing in my life that made me pray, Who I lost, 12 years ago to this very day.