would you like photos?...

... the nurse asks
in room 8
on the the 3rd floor.
it is the 10th day
of the 10th month
& it may be dark
beyond the white blinds,
but i don't need
flash photography
to remember
the many shades of
dead on arrival blue
bruising her skin

she's medical waste,
the matron says
at the checkout desk
2days &
countless hours later
& they've already
incinerated biohazard bags
& never breathing babies
who aren't fit for
caskets or prayers.
i suppose we're meant to
bury the memories.

i leave emptier
with my hands
full of flowers,
overflowing
with understanding
what plath meant
about tulips.