Ida Kincaid 1866 - 1903

Ida Kincaid 1866 - 1903 I was Ida Kincaid Wife of Charles And mother of a pernicious brood of five sinister sons. My first born required eighteen hours of excruciating labor, And I should’ve known then! After Charles, our son, finally had his behind swatted By the venerable Doctor Lont, Charles, my husband, smoked a relieved cigar under the willow tree there, By the front porch of our Milton Street cottage. My second pregnancy was like the birthing of a butterfly from its bulging cocoon. The bloody struggle, I surmised, Would be my last day on this Earth. But Doctor Lont With handkerchief and black bag in tow, Adroitly saved my life with trembling hands And a distant stare in his saddened eyes. Miraculously and stubbornly I pushed three more squirming boys out of my swollen aching womb, With the fifth destroying my kidneys. Charles never knew this, But I must confess. Doctor Lont, old Doctor Lont, Kissed me when Albert first saw the light. And for a minute there Old Doctor Lont stopped trembling.