She opened the door
Of the nursery
And entered in.
All was quite now,
No sound,
Nothing except
The beating
Of her heart
Which beat faster
As she peered
In the baby's cot
Which was empty
And still.
She quite expected
To hear
The baby's murmur,
The sound
Of toss and turn,
A little cough
Echoing across
The darkened room,
The dim outline
Of the form
Beneath the duvet,
A tiny hand raised
As if in salutation.
She moved
To a nearby chair
And sat
And watched
The empty cot
And tried to pretend
That baby was there,
That the emptiness
Was gone,
That the biting pain
Had eased
And that maybe
If she sat long enough
The baby would return
And smile
And wave
And not be far away
In some small
White stoned
Baby's grave.
But nothing was there,
Except the stillness,
Coldness
And the quietness
Of the nursery room
And the wished for
Baby's ghostly form
In amongst
The shadows
Of the empty cot.
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Comments: 17
Blessings and best wishes - S.
This is very well done although it very sad.