Portrait of a Miscarriage

for Lily 1994

They can never seem to stay in the picture

the way dead people do forever —

Mama at the picnic table, sturdy in her housedress, surrounded by her daughters in their 1950s finest, and me — a serious preschooler, balanced ably on the bench

My childhood friend Leslie — with her Roman nose, that pale white skin, and her prankish smile as she twirls a blade of grass between her slender fingers

Aunt Gert, tall and trim, with her bright blonde-do and her cat rimmed glasses, smiling broadly for the camera

Dear Old Dad, with his birthday crown, raising his glass to the New Year!

My brother Joshua, wearing his Dead Horse Inn tee-shirt with a shit-eating-grin in a cloud of smoke — the doobie just out of the frame

Me pregnant, then not

Unapologetically, our children slip off — moving stealthily from our photographs —

their fine hair electric with each determined step

for the love of the written word. Pronouns she/her

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store