Olivia




Olivia

At first sight,
a pale baby bird,
soft-spoken,
eyes tearing up
with empathy,
heart-spilling,
hands grasping
for empty air
in interrogation rooms
where there’s
never enough room
to breathe

20 years later,
a mother hawk,
a shining matron badge,
a hard edge to your voice,
its tone matching eyes
that have now seen
too much,
hands steady,
gripping a bad man’s neck,
but only inside a mind
that’s running out of room
to care too much


April, 2018



Published by Jennifer Patino

Poet.

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