I was thinking of writing a love poem

as usual

driving to get my Tim Horton’s

the words on the edge of my mind

about the invisible strings

in the sky connecting us

then I read about the three young angels

dead in Delhi, found one after the other

wrapped in postpartum love

and all the memories come back

of Amanda and Sabrina

how we loved them

cherished them

consoled the mom when her husband ran away

only to find out she too

had left them on the couch

with prescription drugs

and ran from her melancholy

smashed into a pole.

All these angels surround us

killed by the love of a mother

we give life not take it away

and so many mothers

struggle with their own breast-milk

their minds listening to voices

we can’t hear

their love consumed by fears

concocted death scenes


little floating bodies in rivers.

It’s the ones we know who have

died this way

that shatter our dreams

like those two angels I taught

and still hang onto

their drawings

the little one with ginger hair

and loving eyes

the older one holding on

to sad goodbyes.

They were the exact same age as my


The reasons don’t matter

when you see white tiny




  1. writersdream9 · March 18, 2015

    Amazing poetry!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Enigma · March 18, 2015

    Don´t forget
    We also have a blog, if you don´t vote us,,,

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Leyla · March 18, 2015

    i like it 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. wholeproduction · March 23, 2015

    Nice poem 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Chrissy · June 20, 2016

    Reblogged this on Christina Strigas .


  6. Dustin · June 20, 2016

    This is so sad….but the ways you were able to convey these emotions into narrative is truly amazing.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Dustin · June 23, 2016

    I cannot help but notice.:)

    Liked by 1 person

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