They melded, two as one, height of passion,
a million swimming tadpoles rushing there…
First skewering zona pellucida;
a soul, new life is born, of love or not.
Rich do not want the hassle for their son,
she is only six weeks along, abort
like a used condom, poor flotsam downtown;
we don’t do this. You won't ruin your life!
What of the little one who cannot speak
in the dark as its heart begins to beat?
Her sister was driving to the store,
old Volvo wagon, child seat tight in the back.
Her young daughter cooed and smiled, NPR
on the radio, morning after pill
now OTC1, a wave of dark sadness
descends and she realizes that the
convenience would have supplanted precious
life, cooing, smiling; blue-eyed innocent.
Oh dear boy, take a risk, who is to say
this life inside of her, this precious soul,
will be the one who delivers us from
the future’s dark uncertainties! What would
have been of you had your mom opted out?
“Plea for the Unborn” was printed in Crossroads, No. 8 of Inwood Indiana. Pick up the paperback from Prolific Press; the stories and poems published online are free to read here.
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