Hush Little Baby
in my daughter’s 13th week | hush little baby |
holding my hand tight to her belly | |
she asks, do you feel the baby? | don’t say a word |
unexpected electricity cracks |
jolts me back to 1962
my 13th weekfull of hippy freedom in Ann Arbor
I flew to a warehouse in New York City
and got in line
a small room, the window cradling the sun | hush little baby |
a woman holding my hand | |
or holding me down | don’t say a word |
after, the doctor sat down on a stool | hush |
in the corner of the room | little |
holding his head in bloodied hands | baby |
don’t say a word