For Shame

For Shame

Maternal as the morning light that glimmers on the sea
and kisses every separate crest that rushes to the shore,
the first born child pats every sibling's head inclusively;
her kisses drip to each one's cheek before she shuts the door.
The heavy tread upon the path an echo of her heart,
she gathers all her courage to her breast and faces fore.
They peer through slats of shutters, see their favourite depart,
then huddle as if icy fingers stroked their inner core.
No incident in history has primed them for this fate;
their sister's shame, still unexplained, is mighty - this they know.
Nor is there chance of her return, no leeway for debate
for certain sins are coffin lids kept closed by nails of woe.
Her tears spill hot, too long kept back to stem a bitter tide;
no comfort from such painful loss, this new life held inside.