Blind Fists Cry Out


Blind Fists Cry Out

Blind Fists

A stranger wraps his arm’s about
my waist, cold shivers run up and
down my spine,

“They will save him”, I whispered,
“experts you know do this all the time.”

All I heard were seagulls
squawking – above my head, legs
splashing – in the ocean –
mumbling of voices – so far away.

I screamed, “I want to know!”
I flung my arms into the air
as if they had eyes,
“Is he alive?”

I stood to run, tripped, then fell.

Seashells cut apart my legs.
I grabbed some sand into
my fists then cried.

“Are you the mother?”
the voice of a woman.
I reached to feel her face.

“Tell me, what, does he look like –
is he cold? Is he warm or –
is he blue?”

1 Comment
  1. Avatar of Nancy Duci Denofio
    Nancy Duci Denofio says

    Angie I am so thrilled with this picture – you certainly have a wonderful way of adding emotion to my writing. Sincerely, as always Nancy

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