Farewell
On this gently raining morn'
I was witness to a baby born
Her breath warmed not our atmosphere;
for she was not meant to dwell here...
This wee child, newly bathed and wrapped
in a miniature shirt and tiny cap -
her fingers, toes counted; gently kissed & touched,
at once: arrived, yet missed so much.
Two parents cradled tenderly
a daughter whom they'd hoped would be
a pride and joy; good-byes were said
to this tiny girl - life quickly ebbed.
No joy for this mother's labor today
a dreamt-of future slipped away
Our sorrow mingled: family and nurse
yet there was not any uttered curse -
Each tearful face, in reverent nod
gave over that Angel small to God.
(c) K.E.Cline, 01 June 1997
(This poem is written about the experience of helping a young mother through the very preterm labor & delivery of her first child who lived only minutes...)