Displaced

It began at birth, when she summoned
All her might against a steady rhythm
Forcing her through a dark and wet canal.
Twenty hours she held fast, until she felt
the forceps close on her head. She tried
to cry out, but her lungs and nostrils were
full of a thick, viscous fluid.

Although her eyes were closed, she felt the
Harshness of a light above, as she emerged.
Hands reached down and shoved something in
her nostrils to clear the fluid. The same hands
grasped her tiny ankles and lifted upward.
She began to retch, and felt her lungs
Empty more fluid.

A slap stung her backside forcing a scream;

She cried her first bitter tears;
Tears for the imprisonment of her spirit
Tears for the pain of physical density.
Tears of sorrow for her future death.

(To Erika)

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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