Secret Town

           for Katie

Nursing,
milk shoots
from her babyless breast
clear across the bed

her mind of drawers
yanked open, found empty.
There, that clear space
on the floor looks good
for curling into

dreaming of showers
a nurse put her in
to revive, like a drunk
stoned in a girdle of pain
she can’t crawl away from.

He said if she went out
he’d let the baby scream
after that
kicked-in cupboards
don’t faze her, nor
restraining orders, DUI’s

and all the bleeding years ago
through pads, shorts, car seat,
the drive to the hospital my god.
So much blood on her hands, in her
hair, clots of someone she can’t
ever put back.

Fever

The heat of your small body
            pulsed waves of worry

through shallow dreams, woke me again
            and again. Your cheeks flushed

an unholy pink, the skin
            of your lips swelled and shiny, scorched

by some inner violence. 
            When you woke

your vacant eyes regarded me
            from some newly indifferent shore

found me praying you would
            make your way, would pull me back

from this unforgiving edge
            of mother-love.