Challenging Poetry

the NICU

they say a body is
ninety percent water.
I am empty—
a shell covered
with the salt
remnants of rain.

it sheets down,
a driving force
that batters my eyes
until they are raw.
lost.

I see him—
so still,
so perfect,
so gone.

the wind
whips the world around,
and then rain wells up again
in flash floods that fill me
to drowning.

line count:20
form: free verse