What we saw was
the pudgy placeholder for the law
In his uniform, high alert
gun drawn at the suspects
Through the bullhorn they hear the same grim warnings:
Put your hands up
Don’t turn around
Walk slowly to me
Pantomime of imminent demise
The laws of physics make the same demands:
Put your hands up…don’t turn around…walk slowly to
The pantomime of imminent demise
Twenty years ago the doctors never read me
The Miranda Rights of motherhood
About the presence or absence of DNA
Arms, feet, a face on the ultrasound they never let me see
Swimming in the dark
Pebbles with new names
Ask God for answers
Hands up…don’t turn around…walk back…
Was this child real enough?
He prophesies
children from stones
Not unlike dragon teeth
Heart pierced through
So we can all come home
By nightfall.
Carrying Light 