Purring
at the moon,
she sits
declawed and
robbed of a
womb. Watching a family tree
hobble
into eternity without
her genetic twig brings grief, but
oddly enough, relief. There are
too many motherless children
needing the cradle
of her
arms
t o
fret
about
genealogy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
©Susie
Clevenger 2014
Comments
Luv, K
Those words must strike at the heart, so indicative of infertility. It makes me think of the plants now engineered without seeds, so our fruit will be easier to eat, and animals that are neutered, as well as the heartache of women who are unable to bear children. This is a very moving poem, and the colour and shape add a vibrance to the words.
and love the life givin tree...
much love...
Just an amazing poem and the shape is nice too.