The Baby’s Mother Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

Nine o clock. The bomb, in five minutes.
The kamikaze is watching outside his car.
In five minutes the devil will be deadly present.

Nine o clock and a minute. Time diminishes quickly.
He sees a young couple staring at a shop window,
a grandpa who falls, no hand to help him get up.

Nine o clock, two minutes and eight seconds.
He waits at the corner holding flowers to welcome her.
She hides herself, takes other direction. He still waits.

Nine o clock, three minutes and seventeen seconds.
Sitting on a bench, she cries. He approaches quietly,
they leave, she forgot her backpack, they come back.

Nine o clock, four minutes and twenty seconds.
The bus has a damage. All passengers step down.
In the evening news we’ll know the number of victims.

Nine o clock. She, in a car... Suddenly sees
the kamikaze and drives close to him, closer.
‘Watch out’, I shout. Staring at kamikaze
she grabs her baby and drops it on the road.

They carry her dead body; her alive baby
I carry in my hands. I feel she is smiling
to me, using the debris of her chin.



© JosephJosephides