Rebirth

I am still mourning.
My child was stolen by cruel Fate.

The Norns smiled at me from a foggy backdrop.
They required of me the toys I purchased.
They required of me the handmade clothes I stitched.

These things slid into their bubbling cauldron.
Washed clean of my language,
they were given to another family far, far away.

I am asked to learn a foreign tongue.
To recite border prayers with unfamiliar words.
I receive a baptism splashing across the Rio Grande.

I am still mourning.
My emotions nailed to a bulto awaiting my conversion.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

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