The Woman Who Would Be Mother

( though we did not share a womb )

Image by Author

Childhood’s

Heaven was

Lullaby,

Lap and me

Kneading

Turkey flesh

Of Ayah’s* arms.

Sleep in her lap —

A cradle of cloud

And feather,

Fern and Earth.

Ayah’s sandy warmth

and griddle smell

Threw a cordon

against night fears.

Image by KELLEPICS on Pixabay

Which

Mother

Picks

Flesh

Off her own

Rib cage so

That her child

Might eat?

In secret,

She gladly

Fed me

Her precious

Weekly

Goat chop,

Week after week