SIDS, judgement, and a bad day

Tears that fall like winter rain in Seattle
Slow
Bitter
Constant –
Making you turn frigid and brittle in their soul-draining shadow
Of grey clouds and impenetrable blankets
Smothering a small child who just wishes she could breath
But has not the power to free herself
She slowly suffocates and is claimed by SIDS –
Like too many infants who
May have shined one day – who
May have danced – who
May have changed the world and made it into something



Bright.

Such tears are void to hope
To stretch
To create a world – In which
You and I sit together - In which
You and I share a meal – In which
I could dare to bring myself
To you
In which you might strain to truly see me

You report her sinful world
You report your anger
You report her – beautiful her –
Broken honesty as
Sin
Full

It is indeed dark and no child can breathe
Beneath the shadow of your heavy world
Beneath your misplaced anger
Beneath your – stifling your –
Broken hiding as
Sin
Less