Salt and Dust
The child was crying pitifully,
her body feverish and hungry,
and her mother had just died there,
she was hugging her for warmth,
avoiding fear,
as an angel watched over her in tears,
human litter on the bed,
a young mother dead,
sheets covered in stains,
and urine tracks,
her face was like candle wax
the child filled with emotional strains,
as her life slowly drains,
there was no one to trust,
the dead mother’s skin
was like crust,
and the air smelled of salt and dust
then the child sat,
only four years old,
no bigger then that,
the room was cold,
the angel covered his eyes,
and his wings would fold,
mom, wake up,
she whispered under her breath,
and that angel was the only witness
to that death...
© 2012 Frank Atanacio