Let me sing you

The nursery is duckling soft,

imagined lullabies,

a nightlight’s glow,

a paddle of ducks on the wing.


My little hatchling,

cracked too soon,

a hairline fracture,

the membrane ripped from the shell.

I am yoked to losing you,

too early my beautiful.


The milky film of sleep breaks

into remembrance.

My broken husk,

the nursery door letters

that would spell out your name.


Not a nightlight but a candle.

Not a blanket but a snowdrop cluster.

Come my darling.

Let me sing you to sleep.