Your Name, by Jennifer Mills Kerr

Your Name

Heavy on my tongue,

hard candy that doesn’t

melt or sweeten,

the taste of old pennies

in spring water.

Once I shared it with others–

and you sparkled, floating, dust

motes in light.

Many women miscarry,

my doctor says.

Within my silence

a tiny black coffin

Imagining your face–

at one, at ten, at thirteen–

anchors me–

then your features fade,

sand beneath salt waves

Shifting, half seen–

a ghost I create–

to give birth

to you again

and again

This poem originally appeared in ONE ART: a journal of poetry.

Jennifer Mills Kerr runs A World in a Line Creative Writing Workshops for poets and fiction writers. Lit-amorous, she’s on a perpetual quest for the next amazing poem to read, savor, and share. Connect with Jennifer at JenniferMillsKerr.com.