In front of me in the public bus
is a woman with her child.
A cheerful baby, she holds her over her shoulder
and absent-mindedly pats her back.
I look away, out the window and there,
mockingly, is a flower shop
with wreaths showcased in the front.
I feel another contraction and grab my flat belly.
Then I close my eyes;
welcoming the nothingness;
the unnamed –
giving in momentarily to exhaustion.
When I open my eyes, she is asleep.
My insides are calm
A single sob escapes
And it is enough;
Measured to fit the brevity of existence.
For what was barely there.