Yellow Sheets Afterwards, I swaddle you in plastic sheets; yellow and crumpled as an old raincoat, they will protect you from the rain. Today is the first and last day. I will not look at your face, tiny and still-pink, I know it will accuse me. But I see your little fingers, cold and stiff as icicles in the morning air. It’s better this way. … Continue reading Two poems by Louisa Adjoa Parker