5 months. Aries to his Scorpio.
My heart still feels
like a bruise, a heavy thing I carry.
I still can’t wear tight clothing.
There is still a veil
pulled over so much of the day.
And yet life keeps living,
insists on it,
just as he won’t allow me
to dwell on the image
of his dead face.
The spirit rises, free and glad,
and I know that’s him, really him,
not the cold body he left
– as beautiful as that body was
even after he had left it, even days later.

So I learn to be the mother
of a dead child
who is not a child
and is not dead
but is in fact a glorious, radiant thing
who doesn’t need diaper changes
or to have his face wiped,
who doesn’t need to be rocked to sleep
or to be watched on the stairs.
So I am trying to discern
what he does need.
Is there something else
besides my love and acceptance?
What are the things I can do
to mother you now?