They Call Us Mother

By. Ashley Cardona

When a baby is stillborn we ask 

what happened but mean

what did you do?

A detained woman is bleeding, she pleads

For help. She births a corpse.

What did you do?

What did you do?

A sip of wine, a ham sandwich—

a blade aimed at a pregnant belly.

Wear a necklace and the baby 

will be strangled by umbilicus.

See an animal killed and the infant 

will be tainted by violence.

Superstitions police the body. 

Mothers hide their children 

under the beds, whisper cuidate, 

and kiss them.

What did they do?

The lucky ones are tagged and returned 

The deported ones give birth too early

low birth weights, and prone to illness—

the barbs of trauma are deep mutations

in gene expression—transmogrified 

suffering—a marker of motherland.

What did we do?

Ash Cardona holds an MFA from Augsburg University. She lives in Minneapolis, MN, with her husband, daughter, and two naughty but charming dogs, where she teaches high school students to care about language. Sometimes she is successful at this. Her poems can be found in Dressing Room Poetry Journal, Lumina Journal, and Poetry City USA. Instagram & Twitter: @akvcardona