Pair

Left, here, are my quiet spaces, my stark
And wild bones
like canyon walls, made wicked by erosion

But, oh, what might have been…

adam would be kicking by now,
Eight months in womb
A father’s hand lazily following
All that midnight movement
Mommy fast asleep
Our boy
Waiting to meet us

And i want to tell him I didn’t forget; he was worth it, as life always is,
Even when death comes first