what didn’t get to happen

my therapist says it is crucial to vent
about the children i almost had
the ones that died in the process
as if one could actually have a child
or debunk that process
forget the names chosen for each of them

i don’t see why it should be relevant to admit
that i make them dinner on Fridays
a solitary meal
but dinner all the same
one of those with soup and warm bread
a forgettable movie on tv
and can you pass me the water
like a true family
apple crumble and a story book
before going to bed

my therapist insists there is always a story
waiting to unfold

but at this point
i don’t know if i want to talk about
miscarried children
expelled before due time
deeply wanted and yet so unknown
calling out for me

just like the image i get in the mirror
when i go to bed
and think of the stories
i would have told them today

instead i fill the dog’s bowl
and plan for the next grocery run

Miguel’s poems appear in The Lake, Book of Matches, The Red Fern Review, Wilderness House Literary Review, Scapegoat Review, Last Leaves Magazine, The Bluebird Word, and DarkWinter Literary Magazine. He likes walking country roads at sunup and is friends with a heron that lives in the marsh near his home.