Echoes rebound off the bedroom walls
as she screams in pleasure to a deity
that better hears whispered prayers.
Violin Concerto in F Minor, Vivaldi
is the soundtrack when seed and egg
meet in her and make our child.
Love bleeds all over feuding families
as guns like thunder roar through the
night delivering the required martyrs.
The dead are mourned with a dirge of
voices echoing off the hills and the
building threat of vengeance. Storms.
Anger thrums just out of hearing,
just out of sight as our child is
born into this unwelcome cauldron.
This night defines me. Unbridled joy.
Hope for our familial peace. Not to be.
My child loses her mother to violence.
Echoes rebound off the bedroom walls
as she screams in hunger to a mother
who better hears whispered prayers.