The procedure complete,
alone, weak beneath starched sheets.
As the hospital sleeps, my fingers fumble
over the sutured scar, a jagged map
of mourning stitched into my skin —
empty without and empty within.
Beyond these white curtains,
stars shine bright as Diwali
in a cold night sky.
Someday, within these walls,
I will hear my baby cry.
Cradling my hollowed womb,
I trace this new wound and weep.
The only sound I hear now is the fading retreat
of a doctor’s footsteps, echoing my heartbeat.
© Doireann Ní Ghríofa
Final hours of Savita’s life recounted by nurse at inquest
Doireann Ní Ghríofa’s poems have appeared in literary journals in Ireland and internationally. The Arts Council of Ireland has twice awarded her a literature bursary in 2011 and 2013. Her pamphlet of Ouroboros has recently been longlisted for The Venture Award, UK. www.doireannnighriofa.com