Poem for mourning

I cut this out of the paper a few weeks ago, and thought of sending it to a woman who recently lost her husband. She had recited a poem at his funeral, a mournful poem that he gave her to hold onto until he died. He had no idea she would have need of it so soon.

I still haven't mailed it, though. Instead, I'll post it here and send warm, healing thoughts her way...

Spare Parts

We barge out of the womb
with two of them: eyes, ears,

arms, hands, legs, feet.
Only one heart. Not a good

plan. God should know we
need at least a dozen,

a baker's dozen of hearts.
They break like Easter eggs

hidden in the grass,
stepped on and smashed.

My own heart is patched,
bandaged, taped, barely

the same shape it once was
when it beat fast for you.

- Trish Dugger