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?