Abortion, an opinion.
I sat on the terrace sun was flooding obliterating whiteness
escaped into the living room, observing four ships anchored in the bay.
Through the binoculars, vessels with long lines made to carry bulk loads
like grain, rice or coal; I spent many years on crafts like these.
This reminded me if abortion had been informal, I might not be born
in the time before World War 2 when abortion was hard to obtain
not, relaxed, with a quick visit to the hospital and a cup of coffee.
My mother (before women's rights, was all for women's rights) such as
equal pay and respect, but she thought abortion was morally wrong.
Since we lived in poverty, her sister showed up with a skipping rope
that might help induce a spontaneous abortion mother was not
into sport and preferred to read lengthy novels.
I cannot condone abortion on demand; I know the arguments
about a woman's body is her own can do as she pleases.
A better reason must be given before the purge of the unborn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem