Mother and Child

Piece Two

I’ve watched you sleeping
For a while,
Memorizing the curve of your crooked
Smile.
Faded teardrops
Grace the corners of your cheeks.
Infinitely weary,
The shadows pull across your eyes.
Between my shallow breaths I cradle
Your broken weight.

We ran together.
You pushed me forward.
Forcing me to accept promises
That I couldn’t comprehend:
“Do not look back if you no longer hear my voice.”
Five steps ahead and fingers intertwined, we ran alongside gunfire.

Neighbors and friends
Who once grilled steaks on Saturdays
And shared beers on Sundays
Now aim AK47s and 9 millimeters
At the fathers and sons, mothers and daughters.
Their trembling voices deny their Gods.
“Hold back your gun, I will convert!”

Words emptied from my mouth, exhaustion filled my throat
As I fled from the boys I once played baseball with.
Although exhausted by gunfire and consumed from death,
I continued leading the path to freedom.
Fear trembled against your eyes,
Tears traced the contours of your chin.
Gunfire so close to my ears silenced my breath.
But it was not me
Who met the ground.
Your silence.
A single shot.
A broken promise.
Turning around, you’re no longer
Five steps
Behind me.
Now in my arms. Your blood follows us.
My strength can only go so far.
I’ll never forget your broken gaze.

I hold you against my heart.
My eyes dare not close,
Fearing you will no longer be with me should I wake from sleep.
Can you hear my four words?
A wound deepens into my heart.
Pain more severe than death.
I deny the truth I must silently accept.
My voice will reach you, but your response will never reassure my quivering voice.
“I love you, Mom.”