Monday, March 26, 2007
The ED Sonnets: Room 7
“We’re here on holiday.” The husband’s wan.
They’re Swedish, twenty-five-ish, tall and fair;
he sits beside the bed and strokes her hair.
“We’d just learned I was pregnant: now it’s gone,
the baby.” She seems calmer than her mate,
although that may be shock. “It’s very sad:
so strange to lose this child we barely had.”
Her voice is dreamy, slurred: they’ve medicat-
ed her for pain, no doubt. “We’ll try again,”
her husband says. She reaches up to kiss
his hand. I tell them, “Recognize your grief
and honor it: make room for mourning when
you feel the need. Some people will dismiss
this loss. It’s real, despite their disbelief.”