Thanksgiving

My friend expected a surgery today,
To remove a body from her body.

But God intervened, and allowed her body
To release the body yesterday night,
Three weeks after it had died,
At the last possible day before surgical intervention,
Without physical pain, without fear.

She had a chance to hold the tiny body
In her hands, and see the ribs, the limbs,
Even the fingers of each hand.
Death. Life. Sorrow. Thanksgiving.

Eleven weeks gestation.
Held for a time, and delivered to God.