Mother and Children. by Sara Warshawski

Poetry

 

by Sara Warshawski

 

She sits holding the baby.

Her eyes are bright as she smiles and coos.

Plants small kisses on face and head and eyelids,

Her baby, nameless for the moment.

 

‘Cup of coffee Jen? A biscuit?’

The nurse brings around the trolley,

‘Put the baby down’ she says

‘Put the baby down before you eat or drink.’

 

She does what she is told.

Tucks him up in a basket,

Wraps him up against the December chill

Which hardly permeates the ward.

The baby is so quiet.

 

Jen looks at him again as she eats a digestive.

‘What a good baby’ she murmurs,

She picks him up to cuddle,

To gaze into the deep blue eyes.

 

She turns his face to me.

I see a turned-up nose and sculpted curls,

A permanent rosebud mouth.

She rocks him, cooing again.

 

Unwanted tears trickle down eyelashes,

I can see her holding my two,

The love that flowed between them.

She knows them when she sees them

But she can’t remember their names.

 

Her new baby never cries, needs no food,

She kind of knows the baby isn’t real but does it matter?

It comforts her, calms her, a ‘very good baby’.

 

Dec 2016 – Jan 2017 Witnessing doll therapy for the first time.

Sara Warshawski