Poetry

AFP photo

By

Ann E. Wallace

Awash

A mother orca mourns

her newborn calf for sixteen

days, the two buoyed together

for hundreds of miles, encircled

by their familial pod.

We marvel at her grief, so

human, at the compassion of killer

whales who keep her close, safe,

share the weight of her grief

and listen to her cry.

A mother from El Salvador mourns

her lost child for weeks unending,

her toddler taken, withheld, misplaced,

she swims alone, amid the lost mothers,

in their pod of manmade grief.

We scorn her despair, her choice so

inhuman, of bringing babe from hostile

land, bound together for hundreds

of miles in search of freedom, life, safety,

and we will not hear her cry.

Ann E. Wallace

Ann E. Wallace has been writing lately about our national identity, teenagers who are making a difference, and human rights issues that have suddenly become everyday concerns. Her work has recently appeared in Tuck Magazine, Juniper, Snapdragon, HerStory, and The Same, as well as in Poets Reading the News. She lives in Jersey City, NJ and is online at AnnWallacePhD.com and on Twitter @annwlace409.