Blood

Friday, August 6, 2010

Empty Pillow


I imagined as hard as I could that you were wiggling around on the bed earlier while Hadley and I read. All I could pull up were tears. No chubby little face or grabby little hands pulling at kitty feet came into my mind. There
were no big eyes to smile at or that smiled up at me. No kicks or tumbles. No made up words whose only meaning is love. No piggies went to market, no cows jumped over the moon. Perhaps you've become the little boy who lived up the lane. Nobody sees him but they know he is there because he was given a bag of wool. When I read nursery rhymes from now on I'm going to change them. I'm going to insert your name into the spots where the word boy is. I can if I want too. And I think your sister will like it. I'm ready for a dream of you, maybe could I have one? A dream that gives me a peek at what you would look like now. So that maybe, on days like today, I could have a sweeter picture.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

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