Oct/Nov 2001 • Poetry |
How much it hurts
Dark hair flew from one side
of her head--
wind. Her thick coat
echoed
open.
Hands contending, eyes
incensed--
one elbow pinned down
her scarf.
A small boy stood motionless
beside her,
still as a fist
clenching.
She bent,
one hand spanning
his shoulders--
he broke
to the end of the world.