The nurses said
It's for the best
And the sisters said
It's for the best
And her mother said
You're lucky to be here
In disinfectant grey
Beneath surround of clattering tray
And wailing, and cooing reverberates
She gently chose a name
And allowed the saying of it
To fill her chest and spread
Intravenous to her fingertips
And through this
You had lived
#NaPoWriMo 2014 poem number 8
© Brendan Bonsack
April 2014