​Her dress fits snuggly,

the baby is due any day now.

What will this child be?

Tiny fingers and toes and mouth 

with dark hair like her daddy?

 

He said, “Don’t have that baby until I get back!”

A promise she can not keep.

Unconscious fingers lace beneath her belly

where the child lies quietly, waiting.

Will she have his eyes, green and deep?

 

People in shades of gray  

murmur soft condolences.

A voice, “it is time. Time to walk.”

So she moves toward the dark edge of earth

her hand caressing smooth wood.

 

The child will sing, that is certain

a voice to blend with her own

and a part of him she can hold.

 

Her belly jumps, alive with life.

 

The darkness slips beneath the earth.