Hum

She hums as she brushes her hair,

long and red with curls.

Her baby cries in the distance,

begging for her care.

She goes into her bedroom, 

sits on the bed and stares.

The curtains blow in the light breeze outside,

with the baby's cries close by.

She looks at her hands,

not thinking that they're hers.

She doesn't think this life was meant for her.

She wonders where her husband is,

gone late again tonight.

Hum, hum, she hums her favorite song.

She stands and heads for the baby's room,

humming along the way.

Her footsteps are small and slow,

her gown dragging on the floor.

The only light comes from the full moon outside,

making her glow a ghostly white.

Calming and cooing the baby,

as she finally reaches its crib,

this life is not for me she says,

and puts the baby to bed.

Reviews

[Misery]

You leave the reader wondering and seeking a bit more. You have the gift of 'beckoning' that keeps one coming back. Nicely done, dear poet.

[Dana Ferguson]

Thank you so much, I was hoping that would be what the reader feels :) I also leave it open to different interpretations :)

[Misery]

You got it right.