Poem: The Promise of Happiness (IV)
From Planet 223
by Zoë Brigley Thompson
I can be happy. There is no obstacle to joy, except I can’t help
remembering the ultrasound after the baby died: how she floated
like an asteroid, empty and misshapen; how that was the first time
my husband ever saw her. ‘Don’t look,’ I said, but it was too late.
