In this bed Pt. 2

Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.

Part Four: Time and Eternity LXIII

AMPLE make this bed.
Make this bed with awe;
In it wait till judgment break
Excellent and fair.
Be its mattress straight,	5
Be its pillow round;
Let no sunrise’ yellow noise
Interrupt this ground.

In this bed

Every night I lie in bed and nurse Monty in the same bed they laid Milos' dead little body next to me. Each night where I hold Monty in my arms and listen to his sweet sucking and cooing, is the spot where I have a fossilized picture of Milos silent and grey. It was just a little over a year ago and yet each night, lying next to my luscious second baby boy I am struck by how close Milos still feels and it breaks my heart all over again, in a new way, each day that Monty grows is a day that Milos never will.