The doctor came to us
with somber steps and apologetic eyes,
and we knew then what was wrong.
I hugged my little girl close to my body,
tears already pricking
and throat already closing the wails inside
my body. I would have given my own
blood for the cancer's consumption if
it would have been willing to bargain.

I light this candle, wax dripping,
flame playing hopscotch over church
walls and stained glass windows.
I lift my eyes to Heaven and beg
the Lord above to hear my desperate prayers
and find it in His heart to spare my
baby girl, to leave me my precious angel
instead of claiming her already as His own.
The wax weeps down candle sides and I
brush the dampness from my cheeks.

The cancer will destroy her body
already frail and paper thin, the doctor
again with apologetic eyes and news
that will shred my heart to ribbons.
And I will stand with distant eyes
and trembling shoulders beside my husband ever
strong in his rage against He who would dare
to steal his little princess from his arms
as they lower the shell of my flesh and blood
into the ground, her final resting place.

- Elegy