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Didi Menendez
When Angels Die
When angels die
their feet never touch the ground.Summersaults round and around
inside your belly.A second seems like eternity.
You are naive.You think your angel is impetus -
a hell raiser,
a go-getter,
an Olympic champion -
not realizing,
death comes in twirls.The next day -
at your four month sonogram,
you are told by a shocked nurse,
your angel is dead.Yet your belly is still round -
still nourishing a dead embryo.You are told to wait -
to let nature take it's course.A week goes by.
Your belly is now flat.Yet your angel has yet to touch ground.
Eight hours later
your child plops into porcelain.A nurse scoops it up
and places it in a white blanket.You study your child
as if he were just sleeping,
counting toes and fingers,
realizing his eyes are like yours.You name him Andrew.
Copyright (c) Didi Menendez 2003. All rights reserved.
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