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 you need correct documentation © cro page 2021