BARELY THERE TO GRIEVE

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. 

Artificial flowers.

Plastic.

Lifeless.

I feel another contraction and grab my flat belly.

Then I close my eyes;

welcoming the nothingness;

the undefined,

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.

Enough grief…

For what was barely there.

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