I hear something through stench, perhaps a kitten dumped, no it is a miracle
|One tiny kitten cry,|
just enough to inspire action.
Carefully, I sift through trash.
On this sizzling summer day,
my heart pounds!
My lips, one command,
A bloody paper bag cradle,
Hold my breath, pray for movement.
Living proof of God, a tiny wrinkled hand,
curly hair, ten fingers and toes
precious baby girl breathes.
I call out, no one
wants to see.
A could be 'grave' for an angel,
holds dirty needles, crack vials.
Disheveled guy passes by,
“One mo hungry bitch
this kid gonna need a fix”.
By Kathie Stehr
21 lines freestyle