Afterwards, we stand outside
the main entrance holding
nothing but the weight
of our empty hands.
Tugging at the sky for answers.
As if we could beg our baby back
down. As if God would
put his hand in his pocket
and shake around for loose limbs.
And we would thank him for every shrapnel
of sinew and bone we could put together.
And even if it was some sort of gargoyle
child that no one could ever love,
it would be enough. And that night
I pulled all the books from the shelves
we had mounted the month before, looking
for a story I must have made up,
or borrowed from someone else.
Natalie is an Irish writer living in Bradford, where she works primarily as a Play & Creative Arts Therapist.
She has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Manchester and has published in UK magazines such as The Interpreter's House and Prole.
She was awarded 2nd place in the Flambard Poetry Prize 2017, and had a second sequence also shortlisted.
Follow the link for a list of other Poems of the Month.
I'm afraid there's nothing we can do © 2017 Natalie Rees: used with permission.
Acknowledgement: Flambard Poetry Prize 2017 - 2nd Prize
Copyright of this poem remains with the poet: please do not download or republish without permission.