Green Box, Sherry Russo

Green Box
by Sherry Russo


Green box
with all your stuff
is all I have left of you
A lock of hair
I could barely touch
So little, so fine and few
A yellow cap
meant to keep you warm
sits lonely and cold in the dark
A blanket that lingers
without your smell
lays idly in it's spot like a lark
The tiny gown you once wore
draped every inch of your skin
Is all that's left
without your flesh
for me to have
and to hold

07.27.10

:::

about this poem.
I couldn't open this box for a long time. As if I was afraid of what I will find, of how I will feel. As if opening it is worse than holding my dead child and giving him away knowing I will never hold him again. I had to brace myself each time, and still do. To bring a box home instead of a baby is so unnatural, so f*#%*d up. But I'm glad they forced me. I'm glad I have it... - Sherry

about the poet.
Sherry describes herself, "I have been married for 10 years to a wonderful husband, a mother of three, one in heaven. Our world was forever changed when our twin babies were born at 28 1/2 weeks due to an incompetent cervix. Our twin baby boy Brandon died shortly after birth from complications of a collapsed lung, and Sophia stayed in the NICU for 48 days. I mostly write about Brandon and my journey in this world without him. It's the only thing I have that's devoted to him. It helps me heal, while keeping his memory alive." Sherry blogs at Remembering Brandon.