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