A mother and son duet.
Mom draw her staff, Linea nigra noting her fertile tune
Blue lines track his song, and purple hers.
Yellow contractions, thunderous cymbals
Time for the concerto to close, burgundy drapes to be drawn
and a new solo to begin.
Intermezzo
Blue absence
He won’t play, their performer is listless
a much crasser show must begin.
Hands clasped, like sterile prayers given
Mentally reciting verse from text, medical bibles.
Expectation of what is to come.
Human hope to be the unwritten exception, an unforeseen statistic.
Gospel gives way to staccato
cutting
ripping
tearing
and
Silence.
no cry, no croone.
Red, iron metal, bloody, crimson afterbirth
A former home, the drumming of maternal’s love
a welcomed cacophony
giving way to
Silence.
still.
discarded tissue.