Eas in crucem
Loosely translated: To hell with you
Tell me you hear the keening mother
rocking, rocking her limp bundle
Tell me charred flesh floats to you
like unholy incense
Surely you watch as
girls become prey
Taste my tears,
dry-eyed
God
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A/N: The Latin title is borrowed from a speech by a (sadly, fictional) president. But the poem itself is a stanza from my own story.
(If you are not well versed in the West Wing and simply want to hear the Latin, it begins at 1:40)
About the Creator
Sonia Heidi Unruh
I love: my husband and children; all who claim me as family or friend; the first bite of chocolate; the last blue before sunset; solving puzzles; stroking cats; finding myself by writing; losing myself in reading; the Creator who is love.
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