There are people
who count children
by the ones
they can see.
I never learned
how to do that.
Your life was short.
Three and a half hours
does not sound like much
to someone
who never had to survive
the rest of the years
without you.
But you were here.
You had a name.
You had a mother
who held you.
You had a family
that changed
because you existed.
So I will keep
counting you.
In the birthdays.
In the family tree.
In every answer
that asks me
how many children
I have loved.
Your name
still belongs here.
MaKenna.
Not past tense.
Not almost.
My daughter.
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