A Loving Mother's Agony

Sitting bedside Praying, Hoping, Tearing, Wishing She softly touches his forehead Feeling for the temperature, Avoiding the need To rush in the middle of the night To the emergency room. She loves him so And cannot bear his pain His suffering, His future. Only if the kemo works, She prays again. He stirs, Comforted by the thought That she’s there, Always there, As she’s always been And always will be. “Damn you!” She cries to herself, Giving his painful future A face, An identity. She thought she could protect, Always loving, But some things Are just out of her power. She continues to pray And wait.