Stolen Light

Twinkling candles spill lavender

all around a cradle where relatives

caress white wine from

glass bottles on their knees.

Tears spilling down on mother and

child's cheeks for similar reasons,

she thinks. A bare chest and empty

pockets, a compulsion to cling to

the lighted candles flickering softly.

Softer even than the touch of a

Fireman's hand to mother's arm

when speaking harsh lies that

freezer her swollen stomach,

"You lie!" she screams rubbing

her empty arms together, feeling

the womb that is bare, "candles

didn't kill my child. You did."

Tears hit the pavement and relatives

sip at empty bottles. Feet pacing,

remembering never to light candles

again, especially for an unborn child.

#light #poetry #napowrimo #child #mother