Caring and Killing

Collapse upon the sturdy bridge,
And mourn out the lungs thick topic,
Miles from the village bound in Oak,
Guilt burns against the shimmer of the river,
Final reflection in the sealed eyes,
To remember the baby as it was,
You wind down the ‘ours’ in sorrow,
What’ yours is mine within that carrier,
Passing now from this life to the next,
But carried for miles down the river,
Like Moses in transit,
Logistically correct,
Destination untrue,
If you cannot see it then it isn’t really there,
This isn’t really happening,
The blonde of her hair now worn thin to the scalp,
Like the career she is chasing,
Getting rid of the unwanted,
To better the self,
Logistically speaking,
To be bound down here,
In this town,
Is like being the baby,
Bag contented,
Rim filled with cavernous rocks,
That she just cast overboard,
Gracing a tremendous airborne swing,
Trouncing the rivers blue in white ripples,
She had dined on the last one through hunger and defeat,
Some said to preserve the lack of evidence,
Announcing her core as ailing,
Bland otherwises spill from the court in justification,
Due to the shadows of the upbringing,
But her defence was the caring and killing,
If a random unknown assailant,
Had outperformed the task,
It would have meant grand black nothings,
But in her motherly state,
Albeit temporary,
Tear the child from the teat and destroy.

Soon to be published in Decanto Magazine August 2008

Soon to be published in Tips Magazine 2008

Soon to be published in Bank Street Writers Issue No. 26 (Summer 2008).