This is what you put in the coffin
of a boy who died too young:
a tattered copy of
his favorite picture book,
that
you never taught him to read from on his own.

This is what you put in your son's coffin:
his worn brown teddy bear,
falling apart at the seams.

These are the things you bury instead of his body
because his body's already in the ground
a quick soldier's burial
in a secret patch of woods
but for the sake of appearances
something must go in the cemetery
next to where his sleepless mother lies.

This is how you lay to rest
the boy you couldn't save.