Reminiscence

The Littlest  Angel
Standing silently within the sterile hospital room,
I placed  both hands on the transparent window glass;
Looking out at the romantic  summer garden in bloom.
Tears flowing, I crouched by the tiny cradle, somber,  sad.
Like a tadpole, his skin was so transparent I could see each  vein.
exigently, I wiped away tape residue from his tiny, angel face.
His  little arms projected out and curled beside his cheeks,
Ending in miniature  pink carnations, 
No love was ever greater,
No hope was ever  stronger,
No prayers were ever offered more fervently, that he would make  it.
Than occurred on the day that he was born.
IlaMae (Ike)  Stucki(c) 3/9/12