constructing poetry

when words fail

I’m a wordsmith by trade, but
when I saw her in the NICU
standing over Caleb,
her finger stroking his little hand
singing the same songs
she’d shared with him
when he was still within her—
when he was still whole—
my craft deserted me.

there are no words to say anything
to a new mother
as she loses her child by inches.
I tried them in my head.
reassuring, faith filled,
mourning, simple,
hopeful, complicated
words, filled my head
with noise until I was drowning
in possibilities—

all inadequate. instead,
I held her hand, watched with her
in silence, turned my head
and closed my eyes
when she begged me
not to look at her.

they all stare at me, she said,
and I knew why they stared
because I felt myself doing it—
watching her to see where she
needed me, hoping for a clue,
a hint of which word she needed.
but their looks—our looks—
made her feel naked
raw.

brain dead. simple words
made the next steps necessary.
and impossible.
she held him in her arms
for the first time,
for the last time,
and sang a wordless song to him
to guard his way.

Prompt for: April 26, 2016 ▼

Subject or Theme: Words...Something to do with words...how we use them, their impact, their meanings,
Word(s) to Include: craft, drown, silence. (or any derivatives of these words)
Forbidden Word(s): tell (or any derivatives, compound or hyphenations of these words)
Additional Parameters: Min 24 lines, rhymed or not. Remember, do not use forbidden words ANYWHERE, including title or the brief description.