by E.h. Bennett

From my short play / film I ONLY CRIED TWICE, and dedicated to Charlie Hebdo:

Some mornings I wake up
Turn over
See her face in sleep
My throat catches
I admire her courage
But I can’t let her know
I can’t give her that
Peace
My approval
It would feel
Like
I’m saying, you’re right
I agree with you
Our tiny son is worth less than a dozen
Sons
Every one of them a son
To somebody
Not my son
Anymore
I don’t remember his scent
Baby smell
She washed his clothes
His blankets
Packed them away
Like his ruined body in the casket
We couldn’t
Couldn’t
I can’t
But every day my brain
Accepting
Helpless
I am a coward
Married to a warrior

© 2017 E.h. Bennett