Unfinished
she piles the hair high atop her head.
Today will be like any other day -
completely different.
Trapt in the confines of her decent
she wonders what mothers before her did
when the baby did not sleep.
Did they ignore the painful cries
or did they throw blankets over shoulders
and pat tiny backs?
She thinks she can hear the mothers from before
late at night when the tv isnt on
and no trace of man can be found.
They say -
"Dance."
And so she moves naked by moonlight
untill the car pulls into drive way.

