Poems from Aunt Jacy

Shoshanna’s Aunt Jacy recently wrote a series of haiku about her time in the NICU. Click on through to read them.

Haiku to My Niece,
Prematurely Arriving
Three Months before Time.

Autumn comes early,
September loosens her leaves.
A chill bites the air.

In the waiting room,
Laughter rises guiltily.
We look down at the floor.

Completeness in form,
She draws her first breath too soon.
Her eyes open wide.

Attached to machines,
Her fingers coil ‘round sensors.
Her eyes gaze boldly.

Her lungs are not formed.
Ripped untimely from the womb,
She stares at the world.

We hold her, afraid.
(Memories of broken dolls…)
The monitors hum.

Our hands are scrubbed raw,
Dry and chapped from the washing,
So we can touch her.

Her translucent skin
At the tips of her fingers
Yields a hint of light.

Her home is plastic.
She lives with a dinosaur,
Green, and just her size.

She curls in our minds;
We hold her there at all times,
Warm incubation.

We urge her to grow.
“I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”
She’s barely two pounds.

How much does she know?
Can she hear us and see us?
Or is she too small?

How do her dreams work?
Her heart races visibly–
Her eyelids flutter.

In tendrils of light,
The soft fuzz on her cheeks glows.
She clasps and unclasps.

We watch her for hours.
How are we supposed to feel?
So much is changing.

Everything’s breathing,
A life of simple actions.
When will she come home?