I found an old something I wrote after my first child died in a second trimester abortion for the ever sacred "health issue":
Today is like yesterday
and the day before
and so on…
I miss you.
Time lies to me
tries to bleach you from my life…
but I carry your photo in my breast pocket
where no one knows;
you cover my heart.
Silence quells those long ago ripples
that made them all look.
They want to knit a sweater I unraveled.
They try to shine the chrome
to get a reflection from me.
Well i'm gone,
no more of me.
They're missing the forest for the trees.
and I'm missing you...
again
and again.
---------
It doesn't really seem to matter what the reason is when your kid is as aborted and dead as the rest.
