Woman standing by the podium
shirt rolled under your breasts
exposed belly stretched
an inch from birth.
You strike the lump
in the uterus with
fists and rage until you
become a living body bag.
You squat over the recycling bin
and drop another child.
God shed His grace on thee
and crown thy good with brotherhood
from sea to shining sea.
There he is returning home in uniform
with your flag over his casket
resting in the ancient silence of the womb.
DQ 03/01/07
