The Desperate Mother
One week I noticed every single day
a woman running into our small store.
She looked so desperate and could not pay
for milk she took. She’d rush right out the door.
I could not bring myself to stop her when
she’d grab the milk, then flee. Her eyes were wild.
The fourth day came, and I decided then
to follow her. Perhaps she had a child?
Into a cemetery I was led
by following this woman. Suddenly
the woman vanished, but to where she’d fled
was shocking. There a new grave I did see.
I heard a baby’s cry. I dug down to
the casket, and the woman – she was dead!
Her child (NOT dead) lay on her chest! Who knew?
On milk his ghost mom brought him he’d been fed!
Oct. 12, 2021
for Tania Kitchin's Something Spooky 8 To 16 Lines Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2021
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