on viewing the grave of my infant brother by Peter Midgley | Poems Rethabile Likes

on viewing the grave of my infant brother by Peter Midgley | Poems Rethabile Likes

on viewing the grave of my infant brother

by Peter Midgley

plot 4278,
windhoek cemetery—
cinder-burnt into the desert sand,
little angels gemsbuck above your head,
raindropped craters on your faded marble rib.
i wander through acres of children’s graves, searching
till i find you: first row, fourth from the left:
we meet at last.

at a first glance you are nothing extraordinary—
no familiar signs, nothing
but the headstone our parents described.
but if i were to tear you open like a !narra,
repack the peel around your skull, would i find
above that mask the bitter-sweet flesh
of memory, a recognizable grimace,
eyes teasing back at mine? would your fingers
envelop me like a welwitschia leaf,
protect me from grief?

gently I touch your marbled skin
and my thoughts leap ahead
to the moment i observe my own newborn.
a few hours is all love needs
to take root;
many more end a parting.

it’s past 4.30 the janitor gestures: closing time.
i stroke my hand over your dust one last time,
promise to bathe you in the morning.



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