25 Aug: Café of Imaginary Dreams

The Little Middle One

She’s the middle one,
the one everyone cries over,
the one nobody talks about.

Buried like a pumpkin seed.
Put a flat rock on top.

No name.
Just numbers.
A date.

An stillborn child does something
to woman, it’s a blade of wind
that cuts right through. Ain’t pretty.

three Russian Stacking Dolls

Written for an Image prompt: Café of Imaginary Dreams ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter.

7 responses to “25 Aug: Café of Imaginary Dreams”

  1. So sad. I don’t know how people cope with that grief – a grief that is kind of hidden from the world.


    1. It’s not hidden. Everyone knows, but most people don’t know how to react or what to say. For the woman, it just adds another layer. I reckon we’re like onions.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I guess by hidden (and I haven’t personally experienced it) I meant that nobody except the parents have had a chance to build any sort of relationship with this little person. So it feels like the grieving might be quite lonely. The expectation crushed is bad enough. But the grieving…


        1. Yes, that’s true. And certainly the expectation of others is difficult to cope with.

          Liked by 1 person

      2. Another thing we have in common, Misky. One of my grandsons is named after the child I lost. Somehow, that comforts me. Most of the family has forgotten but I think of him often.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. We don’t forget them. They are every bit a part of us still. We do have a lot in common, don’t we.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Yes, we sure seem to.

            Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: