David
They told me on a Friday
You were dead
And Daddy was away
And didn't know to come right away
And my friend gave me lilies
Because what was there to say?
For a week I carried you
Still, heavy, silent
A breathing tomb
I birthed you on Good Friday morning
Held you in the hollow of my hand
Tiny, formed, delicate, alabaster
They told me we could bury you
So Tuesday we did
Paper shroud, cardboard coffin
Mommy's letter in a bottle
My baby
Who lived in my hope
But died in my body
Who lived in my heart
But never in my arms
I planted a lilac to remember you by
I had to leave you and the letter and the lilac behind
