Loss

My mamma’s a pretty one.

She’s pink today, wearing pink,

Her giggles like tinkling bells,

Or summer water gurgles,

She’s big around the middle,

Nana says it’s my baby sister

Or a baby brother, perhaps.

My mamma’s a pretty one.

She’s not playing with me now,

Moaning now and then...

There’s grime everywhere

And so many people too.

She doesn’t look at me

Or at them either,

I wait for my new baby friend.

My mamma’s a pretty one.

Where’s Daddy, I wonder

He’s gone, they say.

Looking at me with wondrous eyes

Daddy’s away, they tell me.

I wonder why

He must make the sick people well

Sick people are sad

Is my Mamma sick?

But she’s such a pretty one.

It was so hot in the wide open field

When they thrust fire into my hands.

And so hot now

People, so many...

Leave my Mamma alone, I wail

She’s ill, don't you see?

But they don't go...

And they don't stay...

Whispers, just whisper around me.

Mamma! Look at me!

Where’s Daddy?

I want Daddy.

They look at her.

She looks at me.

I am one.

I look.

 My colleague lost her husband in an air-ambulance crash
(http://www.dailypioneer.com/341522/He-left-home-in-haste-but-returned-dead.html)

There are no words to console her, their families, and families of others who lost their lives. A day passed, a week, a month, and slowly a year will have passed... and the little child of one will never know his father. He ended up with the worst deal because he didn't even understand he was supposed to be in pain.

This lifetime...it's unfair.