Poems

After our first loss, we moved on. As you do. But our second loss, over the Christmas period; somehow had welded itself to all that we do.

A month before what would have been her due date, Karen Mercer wrote the following poem for her baby, Zamira, who died at 8 weeks.

I’ve wandered aimless as a dandelion scattered to the wind, Watched helpless as the tides of emotion sweep across your Mother’s brow, Seen rivers bathe her tired cheeks, And wished I could have known you as she has...

Welcome to the circle Of the ladies in pain Please all join hands And tell us your name

Least suspecting times Catch me with a thought of you

Not a blob but a baby Not foetal tissue But flesh of my flesh Bairn of my bone.

Sometimes I cry, at any time, any place, I cry.