Elehna de Sousa

Mother Love

From the back window I see a mother racoon, baby in her mouth, ambling across the yard and up the side of the house. I wonder why she’s out and about during the day—perhaps something has disturbed her. She goes back for the others and carries them one by one, four altogether—takes them up to the roof somewhere out of sight. Then suddenly, a sickening thud. One of the babies has fallen and landed flat on it’s rump. It cries out plaintively, unable to move.

heartache
the sound of it’s bleating
over and over again

My neighbour and I put it in a small box and drive as fast as we can to the downtown Humane Society, hoping they will be able to save it. But all at once, without warning, it goes into seizure, convulsing and squeaking uncontrollably. The attendant wisks the box away in a hurry, mutters something about there being no hope.

all day and night pacing
the length of my front walk
a mother in distress