St Giles' Churchyard, Shrewsbury
In shadows that shift between church and yew
a woman sinks before a gravestone
tracing the lines engraved there,
wanting from each straight incision her children’s limbs
and from each curve their soft heads and laughter.
Louisa, who died on the 18th of November 1850
aged two,
will not be woken from her indent cradle,
and the woman tells herself it was something
to have shaped your first curls around my fingers.
Sarah, who died on the 19th of November 1850
aged seven
does not dance out from her carved name,
and the woman tells herself it was something
to have watched you point your toes and skip the floor.
James, who died on the 20th of November 1850
aged five,
cannot wrestle his way back to her,
and the woman tells herself it was something
to have healed the cuts on your knees with a kiss.
In shadows that shift between church and yew
a woman straightens herself,
preparing to meet those who will stare at her
and those who will turn away from her -
as if the loss of children were somehow contagious.