BLIND FISTS CRY OUT

Blind Fists Cry Out

A stranger wraps his arms about
her waist; cold shivers run up and
down her spine -

"They will save him," she whispered,
"Experts do this all the time."

She heard sea gulls squawking,
and legs splashing – faint voices
mumbling.

She screamed, "I want to know!"
She flung her arms above her head
as if they had eyes - she whispered,
"Is he alive?"

She stood to run, tripped, and fell.
Sea shells cut apart her legs -
she grabbed sand - tightly
squeezed her fist’s and cried.

"Are you the mother?"
A stranger’s voice. . .

She reached to feel a face.

"Tell me – what . . . does he look
like - Is he cold? Is he warm
or - is he blue?”

Nancy Duci Denofio
all rights reserved
from working memoir "Blind Fists Cry Out."