Behind the Curtain
She was behind the curtain in our shared room.
I never saw her face or heard her voice.
Everything was peripheral: the newborn crying,
the nurses coming to check on her,
the social worker trying to understand, to ascertain
if she may hurt her child, if she may hurt herself,
if they could release her. Still no words from her.
Perhaps she nodded. Her family came
in the early hours, a husband and two rowdy kids.
They pulled the curtain, spilled into my space,
bundles of energy. They all packed up and left.
The nurse opened the curtain to an empty bed.
I think about that child on my son’s birthday,
a twin in birth date. I don’t know his (or her) name,
or where he (or she) lives, but I wonder
what life was dealt to them.
Dolo Diaz is a scientist and poet with roots in Spain, currently residing in California. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in SLANT, The Summerset Review, ONE ART, Third Wednesday, Rogue Agent, among others. Website: dolodiaz.com.