Rebecca Johnson Poet ABC

Unborn Cradle.....

Daddy told me that sister said
you were beautiful. 
He said she held you
and was your blanket 
for short time period.
Told me you were going to be
Timthoy,
Gave me breif discription,
printed pictures
and flashed copied birth certifice
said he wanted proof 
that you were his first 
Grandson.
Blood robbed your cradle.
That night pressure refused to stay away
from vessel.
It wasn't spilled milk, but i was a substance 
that conqured red, and it took the place of your two week old head.
What could have been only
exist in my mind.
So I"m only reminded by your abutuary,
and the visual of that winnie the Pooh hat
morgetision laid on your head
unfortenally I wasn't at birth
But i made it to barrial.
I'm sad emotional
because 
I never go to hug you 
play pic-a-boo
or even sit with you
But I stand there
massive tears kissing my face
and wonder what could have been.......

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