{"id":5294,"date":"2025-10-21T17:44:30","date_gmt":"2025-10-21T17:44:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/stefanialucchetti.it\/?p=5294"},"modified":"2025-10-30T11:48:28","modified_gmt":"2025-10-30T11:48:28","slug":"poetry-perinatal-grief","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/stefanialucchetti.it\/en\/poetry-perinatal-grief\/","title":{"rendered":"PERINATAL GRIEF POETRY by Italian contemporary poet Stefania Lucchetti"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Foto:\u00a0 Italian contemporary poet Stefania Lucchetti\u00a0<\/em><\/h6>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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There are forms of pain that find no place in ordinary language, unseen and unspoken, silenced out of modesty or out of fear of causing discomfort, yet they live within us with a constant presence.<\/p>

November<\/em> was born from the need to break that silence, to restore dignity to a loss that is invisible but profoundly real.<\/p>

Amid the folds of life that urges us to move forward and to think positively, perinatal grief often remains unspoken, an invisible sorrow that society prefers neither to see nor to name.
And yet, a life that could not continue, for whatever reason, does not cease to exist. It creates a space that can be filled only with love.<\/p>

Here I wish to share a deeply personal poem, November<\/em>, born from a wound that, over time, has transformed into words.
Writing about this subject was not easy, but I believe that poetry can offer a space for recognition and for peace, both for those who have experienced loss and for those who simply wish to understand the fragile mystery of absence and of the love that remains.<\/p>

For me, writing November <\/strong>was a way to recognise that even absence can contain love, and that memory can become a place of survival and of tenderness, not only of suffering.<\/p>

NOVEMBER IS A POEM ABOUT PERINATAL LOSS<\/strong><\/h1>

November<\/strong><\/h1>

by Stefania Lucchetti<\/p>

Included in\u00a0 Coffee Stains On My Books<\/a><\/strong><\/em>\u00a0<\/p><\/div>

Hell is real,
it is within me,
in my womb,
a torment which chose me,
a death I cannot escape.
My responsibility, my pain,
my journey through the abyss
locked silently inside me,
hidden from external eyes.
And, since no one wants to be disturbed,
they hurry to look away.
The pain must be mine alone,
this horror must be my burden.
I resist the urge to erase the pain
and pretend this nameless child
never existed.
I try to accept fate, imperfection,
sorrow, and responsibility,
but the pain carves itself deeply.
In my closet, hidden from the world,
there is a folder,
it holds medical reports, labelled \u201cLove 3,\u201d
a name, a space etched forever in my heart.
But pain is not always something that can be shown;
it is easier to smile on the outside
to create a sanctuary for the pain
within.<\/p><\/div>

[If you wish to share this poem please make sure you quote the author – Stefania Lucchetti – and the book – Coffee Stains on My Books. Even better, if you can, buy the book<\/a> for yourself or to give it as a gift to someone]<\/em><\/p><\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Poems about grief and bereavement: read more here<\/a><\/strong><\/h1>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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\"\"In <\/strong><\/a>Poetry is Cyberpunk<\/a><\/em>, <\/strong>you can find the poem Important <\/strong>dedicated to someone who has passed away.
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\"\"In\u00a0Coffee Stains On My Books<\/a>\u00a0<\/strong><\/em>you can read\u00a0The Meaning,\u00a0<\/strong>The Heritage<\/strong> and November<\/strong> all dedicated to grief.\u00a0<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\"\"In\u00a0<\/b><\/a>Afternoons of Suspended Love<\/a><\/strong><\/em><\/b> you won’t find specific poems dedicated to grief but there are poems dedicated to the potential loss of love.<\/p>

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