(Written on Sunday, July 28, 2019)
I posted an ad for a baby item.
A woman responded.
I drove to the address to pick it up.
I cried when the place I pulled up to
Was a home you worked on.
One where I would visit you
When we first married.
When I was pregnant
With our daughter.
The home was number one.
The words “home” were on the sidewalk.
We have a son now.
He was born three days ago.
I cut the cord by myself.
I delivered him all alone.
No husband or family
Or friend was by my side.
He will have no father to raise him.
You have left our daughter
Without one too.
Only she remembers you
And it makes her sad.
He will never have a memory of you.
Not even your voice from the womb
Since you stabbed me
When he was only eight weeks inside.
You already knew he was in there.
You saw his heartbeat on the ultrasound.
You almost took his life! Like his older sister; Only this time, it was a KNIFE!
Now I cannot figure out why
I cry on a Sunday
For memories that could have been.
Creator gave you a faithful and loyal wife,
Beautiful daughters and handsome sons.
And here I sit and cry for you,
As you lost it all, in one fit of rage.
I cry as I have to be strong
To do it all alone.
I know you are not Canadian
So you will be sent home.
I watched the dragonfly fly passed me
As I went away.
I knew my father and uncle
Were not too far away.
