The Nursery
The woman hadn’t slept for days.
Blood-curdling screams
Crawling from under the door,
Lurking down the stairs,
Seeping into her eardrums,
Turning her stomach
At the mere thought
Of her baby in distress.
She made her way
To the nursery.
Just as the tips of her fingers
Grasped the cold shock
Of the doorknob,
A silence fell.
The woman opened the door.
A draft of icy air
Sending shivers through her skin,
Only to be swallowed
By the frozen emptiness
The nursery had wrapped around her.
The silence lingered
As she approached the crib,
Only to be broken
By the creaking of the mobile.
She reached
For her bundle of joy,
Laying peacefully in its slumber,
But her arms sank
As the blanket collapsed;
She cradled her sorrows instead.
Copyright © Jordyn Ferguson | Year Posted 2026
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