AR (3-2-1945 / California)

Between Life And Death

Between Life and Death
A baby cries
No longer a womb keeper
A womb sleeper
Sterilized
More like hypnotized
Blurred vision
Closed incision
The first food is fuel
Nature’s mislaid tool
Succulent
No need to repent
Slowly the day passes
Ready to meet the masses
Lots of noise
From brand new toys
That daddy bought
Will any peace be sought?
Lots of fuss
From too many of us
It keeps us up all night
For a while it’s all right
Every move he makes
Learning patty cakes
There can’t be no wrong
Impressions are too strong
Dirty diapers
Dispensed wipers
Pacifier, baby bottle
Pink cheeks to cuddle
Sparkling eyes
That becomes mamas’ prize
A giggly laugh
Just right for a photograph
At last it’s fast asleep
A sleep that seems so deep
Then at morning all is quiet
Light into the room violet
Silent innocence
Immaculate benevolence
Radiates from its face
A smile never to erase
It all seems so insane
But what is left to explain?
A guarding angel came
And took it to a place with no name

by Alfred Ramos

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