winter birthday while travelling

In labour en route from the south
and aided by terrified strangers
a man's hand clamped over her mouth
contractions in rocking container
unknowing, she knows to bear down
With the cord scissor-cut in the dark
while fresh blood is soaking her gown
all frightened they may miss the barque
such pain in becoming a mother
on the thrumming and grim lorry floor
to baby like no baby other
a miracle snatched from the war
While holding him close to her breast
that baby conceived in such joy
she knows that she acts for the best
but fears for her wonderful boy
They're crammed on like cattle or sheep
the innkeeper, drover and other
And the rubber boat rocks on the deep,
strange cradle for newborn, new mother
for unknowing ship ('Star') to lift
and tip in its strong wake to founder
once the traffickers cast them adrift
in the winter-cold darkness...
                                                 ...that drowned her
and nameless they both wash ashore
still swaddled in blood-spattered gown
where nobody thinks of the war
or the horrors she fled in her town
wise men say we needn't feel shame
that she should have gone back where she came:
whether bringing or seeking salvation
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© cro page 2021

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