“Why Are You So Silent, Jackleen?”
So while she sleeps, she snuggles here with me.
I hold her tiny feet close to my breast.
No baby’s breath I sense as she so breathes.
No sound is heard. My rocker takes a rest.
Her fading flower forgives too-early bloom.
The petals close upon my rosy child.
We sway as she drifts close to home, too soon.
My rocking stops. I listen in a while.
And I, grandmother of some ancient curse;
I cannot hold her in my anguished arms.
I shudder; hand her to the waiting nurse.
My heart-child: we must keep her from all harm.
Nurse bundles her from sight as I must keen:
“Why…why do you so silent, sleep, Jackleen?”
(Day 29, April PAD, Writer’s Digest. Prompt: Write a Reality poem.)