Say Nothing

She comes to me today
Sits with me at the computer
Lays her sweet blonde head
Against my arm and cries
I don't know what's wrong
She says, her swimming eyes
Fixed on some invisible point
Beyond the edge of the desk
Can't sleep at night, she says
Feel dead inside, she says
Right here! clinched fist pressed
Into the hollow between
And just below her breast
The paleness of the skin
Contrasting with the blood
Blood red of her shirt and
I sit for a moment, watching
The blue veins of her hand
Mesmerized, almost, by their
Striking appearance beneath
The smooth, translucent wrap
But she pulls her hand away
Looks to me with blue-gray eyes
The very same eyes that stared
At me on the day she was born
Cuddling into my chest
Radiating love from every
Pore in her newborn body
Warming me from head to toe
Filling me with wonder-love
Now looking to me with
Questions I cannot answer
Darling, the past six months. . . .
Honey, when Lacey died. . . .
Baby, your sisters left home. . .
Sweetie, boyfriends fade away. . .
What do I say, say everything
Tell her not to fight it
Tell her to go with it
Advise her like the
Seasoned pro that I am
Brush her hair away from her cheek
Tuck long smooth strands
Behind her ear, marvel at the
Swirl of downy white hair
At the nape of her neck
And try not to cry. . .
Please, God, don't let her see me cry
Say nothing, nothing at all
I feel better now, she says
Just talking about it helps, she says
I nod, nod, somewhat relieved
Good! I say, with enthusiasm
I don't quite feel, remaining
Cautious, always cautious
Knowing anything is possible
Knowing life will steal the
Light from the brightest
Of the bluest-gray eyes
If they are left to swim alone

For Jessica
November 5, 2002