Motherache

Motherache

Mine,
though I never really knew you
Never held you close nor gazed
At deep blue eyes and velvet skin.
At lips that sucked in slumber
And fingers spread wide in tiny shock.
I never wrapped you in the blanket
I wrapped your sisters in,
Nor laid you gently by me
Where your brother dozes now.
You never suckled at my breast
As they did.
You never put your hands up to my face
Never smiled, nor laughed, nor spoke.
But I remember you, who gave me no memories
As I gave you no comfort.
My child, whose life was spent within me.
My deepest love and grief.