wordsthroughtheglass

my brain on a page

Harvey

Pink apple soles
curl back,

chubby limbs
flop down

as the umbilical cord
unravels

around your
tiny creased neck.

Your liquid lungs
do not scream,

your eyelids
remain shut.

The fusion of
white coats

could not save you.
I rest your fragile body

on my swollen breast,
until the doctor

takes you away.

So as I promised, I’ve uploaded a poem. This piece was inspired by the last post, a poem about a miscarriage. With ‘Harvey’ I wanted to convey a still birth with simple haunting images. I wanted to express the same feeling of loss that Clare Shaw initially touched on, but at the same time maintain my own poetic voice . This, unlike most my work, is not confessional. I just wanted to share what I felt after reading ‘The No Baby Poem’. She is a beautiful writer. Explore.

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