Painting by Wantao Yin

‘Who here is in the world but not of it!’
they demanded in shined boots and crisp suits and when they looked at her
her eyes said too much for their light could not be concealed.

There in that grand pause
she a speck under the firmament
of the dim
closing in on her
knowing she was finally going Home
time come to consecrate her child
only one of her choosing
only five years old
but they would let her live
orphaned and peripheral but with breath and the same mission
the other
(the baby)
would be thrown onto the road
the offensive regime just on the horizon
like a broken seal releasing
imminent death
and she would go to him so he would not have to die alone.

Angel or human
There is no break in time long enough to say goodbye to a mother’s child.


©2018, Amaya Engleking

Tonight we explore the caesura in poetry over at dVerse.



  1. This is so strong… the loss, that final two lines made me sigh… love how you work with line-breaks here.

  2. Paul Dordal · January 5

    Your writing is beautiful and dangerous, like an erupting volcano. Hey, I am reading a really good book of fiction (taking a break from reading theology and politics). It is called Octavia’s Brood (https://www.amazon.com/Octavias-Brood-Science-Fiction-Movements/dp/1849352097) . You probably get a lot of book recs, but thought you might enjoy it.

    • Gospel Isosceles · January 9

      I know any of your recommendations will be worth the read, Paul, but I have a stack of books piling up right now that I have yet to open. Not to mention the hand-me-down New Yorkers. Still, Octavia’s Brood is now on my list! And thank you for the detonating compliment, I most appreciate it.

  3. Frank Hubeny · January 5

    Very nice last line about saying goodbye.

  4. rothpoetry · January 7

    So heart renderingly graphic! I could picture the regime hissing death! You line pauses took me there.. Almost Biblical in nature!

  5. The Count Gustaf · January 9

    Really really sad, I love the way you write 🙂 🙂

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