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Poetry

Mary

Janina Aza Karpinska

You never had it easy - just your luckpoem.jpg
to be the one chosen - to have your name,
and condition, made a laughing-stock
for more years than you could ever imagine.

To be almost-left by your fiance,
who wanted to 'spare you any shame,'
then brought you to your first home,
if you can call settling amongst hay,
and the strong smell of cattle such a thing.

Labouring to deliver your first child,
as sheep jostled for food, and you
without the usual support you might expect
if you hadn't fetched up so unprepared;
travelling too long across rough terrain,
where each step rocked your swollen belly hard
like a heavy gourd about to drop.

And for what? To become 'that family,'
the joke of the region,
and have them all proved right
that time your wilful son stayed
back in Jerusalem while everyone else
returned, and no-one even noticed
until you were nearly home, that is;
and then it took three days to find him.
That was a good one, that,
the gossips had them in stitches -
for quite some time.

Hardly any surprise, then, that he'd spend
the rest of his life homeless, and jobless,
talking in endless riddles - as if he
knew something.                                   


Janina Aza Karpinska