Sally, my sister-in-law, half-sat
half-lay crumpled on the
front steps sobbing a prayer,
the words of which I will never know,
the sound of which I will never
forget
Her dress was soiled with blood
and water, and at four months pregnant, I
instantly knew the terrible truth of her travail.
I could only glimpse the horror but
Sally saw all the dreadful desperate
destiny
Her sobbing tore the air and dislodged
the sky and when she saw
me approaching, her sobs
turned to wailing. My heart shifted
on its pinions and I was
undone
I rang for an ambulance, relieved
I didn't need to explain much
as the operator heard the commotion.
It's strange how we are thankful for the
smallest gifts of grace in times of
trouble
How do I render assistance without
crossing a relational line? Will there be
forever an awkwardness between the two of us?
The uncomfortableness of sharing such
personal calamity in such an intimate way
made the air between us heavy
Bird-song and traffic noise muted,
light lost its gleam, the sky its gloss,
nature changing its demeanor,
grieving too at the loss.
Sally's low keening now the only sound,
except for the coarse choir of cicadas
lamenting in the murrayas.
MDC 20/10/2020
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