A quiet knock sounds,

I peer outside,

A beggar amongst hounds.

“Please, I need help!” The old woman cried.

Against my better judgement I let her inside.

From her cloak she unwrapped a child.

Between the coo and smiles

Of the newborn child,

The woman pressed her hand to her chest.

Blood leaked from her wounds that nearly invisible.

To her cut I pressed a cloth, trying my best.

But no matter how hard I pressed her chest still bled

Her heart ached physically and metaphorically from giving up her kid.

And then the woman disappeared. Her soul flitted to the wind.