Urgent darkness hunts us south, while my stomach churns with childbirth
He waits.

Foetal juices of blood and life baptise this child from my womb
He waits.

I wash my child with sand of red, avoid newborn eyes of trust
He waits.

A feeble cry escapes the grave.  I watch it enter Heaven
He waits.

red band   black man
husband and father
gently  holds our toddler daughter
he has watched mine
now   I watch his back
survival dictates our nomadic trek

We walk silent strong in single file fashion, stumble our way to the mission
He waits.

I bite and kick and scratch and scream “Don’t take this child from me!”
He waits.

We sit broken together.
Darkness waits.