I awaken

upon the bed
stirring warm beneath.
The brass knob turns,
the door opens,
frees a flood of
white light and Ma's
invading silhouette.
She enters, two
brown wood pieces
joined in her hand.
She holds them to the wall,
stands back, hands folded.
Her lips quiver a whisper.

The new thing hovers
upon the plaster.
A tiny bleeding man,
limbs splayed
naked upon the wood.
I cry for her to
remove Death.
She pinches my cheek,
smiles, sings
his name is Jesus,
and he loves me.
I hide my eyes
from God's awful stare.

Scott Speck
1998