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.