She sat in the corner
eyes dry, there are no more tears
her heart ached for her baby boy
the world so bright now dark
“my baby, my son”
“A sword will pierce
your soul,” he said
he came to die they said
but, . . . .
I carried him under my heart
I cradled him in my arms
he was my son, my first born
~Ruth Jewell, ©April
20, 2019
A Quiet Walk 