WITH CHILD
She was still just a
kid...having a kid. A child
carrying a child.
And next year...pregnant again
breeding her own misery.
*******
BEARING IT
Baby held over
her left shoulder...asleep now.
Trail of puke down back
belly full-blown with next one
bruise badly hidden with make up.
it is no longer.. a question of why.. do you.. some wheels have need.. of best..when they.. are seen too be broken...iip
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sad stories made more poignant by the terse tanka form you use to tell them. Very good indeed! Love, Jan xxxx