I keep it.
The positive pregnancy test.
It’s the last sign I have that confirms
I was a mother
Am a mother.

Settled like a coffin at my bedside
I can’t get rid of.

I can bottle up the blood river on the floor
Bury it in a mason jar;
It’ll grow
Green, fuzzy
I still name it,
My baby

And when the growth takes over
Becomes black
It is my child’s skin
And hope
For a heartbeat

And when baby seeps through the lid
I’ll plant it in the backyard
To grow a willow tree
Where I will sit under my baby

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