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The Spot
In a big city in the middle of China, a mother lies in bed looking down at the perfectly beautiful daughter that she has just brought into the world. A daughter, not a son. The mother admires her silky soft skin, mesmerizing eyes, and the tiny hand gripping her finger. She has never beheld such beauty in her entire life and she is amazed that she has created her. But she knows what she has to do. Still exhausted she gets up and dresses. She dresses the baby in a tiny red and white suit, pins a note to her chest and wraps her in a blanket. With the baby tightly in her arms she steps out into the early morning while it is still dark and she walks for an hour to a part of the city she doesn’t know. The baby is sleeping, and she sets her down gently in a dark corner by the steps of the police station. The baby wails and she briskly strides away. She walks and walks but she still hears the baby’s cries. Suddenly she turns and runs frantically back to the spot with tears in her eyes. More than a year has passed and sometimes she cries and sometimes she goes to the spot where she placed the baby. The baby opens her eyes. She is bigger and stronger now. Another mother is opening her arms and picking her up. She holds the beautiful baby girl tightly and cries tears of happiness, but sometimes when she looks at at her daughter, she sheds a tear for the mother who couldn’t keep this perfectly beautiful child.
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It is a realistic poem. THis happens in places like China. It connects to me.