By Christopher Dasaro an MS3 at Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University.
Written in honor of my sister, this poem showcases the different shades of isolation that women often experience throughout a miscarriage. Here, the narrator found out she had lost her baby just weeks after finding out she was pregnant – an abrupt ending to her Spring chorus. The narrator’s multicolored and naturesque descriptions (chrysanthemum chorus; the raindrops of the pod-like heart; the red weather over the Yucatán) are contrasted with the overwhelming pink silence that bookends the poem. Such contrast reflects the monochromatic world the narrator now inhabits, and how “passing” the child is forever etched into her visual field. Relatedly, the narrator’s floral thoughts on the baby are disrupted by the robotic (italicized) insertions from her “doc”, further isolating the narrator in her bathroom “confessional”. Here, it is only her, her lost baby, and the reverberations of almost-motherhood.
Bio: Christopher Dasaro is a third-year medical student at the Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University. He holds a BS in Neuroscience from Muhlenberg College.