The Spot

and all the while I was talking and singing to the spot I
imagined the baby slept inside me, the reality
was that the baby had died two weeks before, unknowingly,
my husband had been sleeping with his hand over the tiny
gravesite for a whole two weeks not knowing the body inside
could no longer feel him my son had greeted me with a smile
each morning with a kiss on that spot and “Good morning, Mommy,
Good morning, Baby,” there was nothing there to hear his happy
voice all I know is that when the thing that once lived in that spot in my
body refused my silent entreaties to have a heart beat, be alive for my
too-quiet doctor, still waiting, I couldn’t have been more surprised,
couldn’t have felt more cheated, could have just closed my eyes and died.