SONNET FOR MY SON, UPON BEING ALIVE
- Dr. Noëlle Jacquelin
- Nov 15, 2019
- 1 min read
To My Son, Upon Being Alive
I think this rainy night I see, young child Face on swollen breast, heartbreak, so tender The wrenching pain, so close, true love defiled Child, with wide eyes, fight night’s cold surrender
The other Mother storms, wails like Banshee I dread her fate, the walk in her small shoe A heart, it breaks, it rips, a broken plea Disrepair, oh shattered, beloved blue
The cries be heard for now and for always
They ring for the Lady of the Wayside
In hands clasped close, ancestral mind ablaze
Rhythmic perfection—how life does abide
Yet dear small fingers once light and now dark Will forever and always make their mark.
Noëlle Jacquelin
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