Naucrate: her lineage
No-one thinks about
her pain of witness,
Daedalus cradles
their drowned child—
a toddler, not a man,
pushed out a window
hungry for life—
a baby, a baby, a baby.
No-one writes for her—
it’s not about her and
she is shamed for feeling
the burning hollowness
of loss, the scooped out
heart, a refugee in a boat
clinging for her life,
praying someone
turns her
into a bird,
a fish,
a sinking rock.
Mother, not a mother,
she watches him sleep in his crib.
Practice for the funeral.
Every meal he refuses, becomes
part of the memorial feast.
She begins to collect the speechless water
in clay pots and dirt to throw at his burial.
She is already washing his bones.
her pain of witness,
Daedalus cradles
their drowned child—
a toddler, not a man,
pushed out a window
hungry for life—
a baby, a baby, a baby.
No-one writes for her—
it’s not about her and
she is shamed for feeling
the burning hollowness
of loss, the scooped out
heart, a refugee in a boat
clinging for her life,
praying someone
turns her
into a bird,
a fish,
a sinking rock.
Mother, not a mother,
she watches him sleep in his crib.
Practice for the funeral.
Every meal he refuses, becomes
part of the memorial feast.
She begins to collect the speechless water
in clay pots and dirt to throw at his burial.
She is already washing his bones.
March 2025
Danèlle Lejeune lives in Richmond Hill, Georgia with her three teenagers and novelist/poet husband Tony Ray Morris. After a twenty year hiatus, she's writing poetry, making art, and creating a lot of chaos with her opinions on onions and pies.
Art: Claire Tang, Pushing Up Daisies. Oil on canvas.