Ritual of Adoption
On the
Anniversary
Date of the birth,
Each year,
She lies
Face down
In her pillow–
Soul
Writhing
Twisting—
Much
Like
A blacksnake
On a hot summer pavement
Run over …….. hanging
In two pieces –still alive;
Her unanswered
Question
“Will I meet my child
before I die?
3 thoughts on "Ritual of Adoption"
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powerful image, that run over living halved snake. your poem, however, is intensely whole
Yes, intense describes it well. Very well done.
That image of the snake is so grounding visceral