Shadow Baby

Back to Poems

Shadow Baby

Published In: The Smoking Poet, Summer 2010

©2010 Susan Milchman

I could become as broken and sad

as a wishbone,

as blood collects beneath me

in a tide pool of afterbirth

and spent energy.

Better to focus on her cry,

the sound raining down

on me from the corner

of the room as the doctors

and nurses check her over,

carefully moving her bird-thin

limbs and listening to the beat

of her walnut heart.

They wipe blood

and remnants of me

from her translucent, coral-colored

skin and tell me that it will be easier

for me

in the long run

if I do not hold her.

I sink

as she is carried from the room,

a stray fold of pink blanket

peeking over the nurse’s shoulder,

my last sight.

divider, visual only Back To All Poems

All photos copyright Susan Milchman on Instagram. To see more, follow her @susan.milchman