SNOWBOUND BIRTH by Tom Zart

SNOWBOUND BIRTH

SNOWBOUND BIRTH

I once knew a lad named Clayton
Who was born on the seat of a car,
Which is hard to believe or conceive,
But sometimes that's the way things are.

His mother herself was a child
Who had not yet turned fifteen.
All she had was a drunken dad,
Not one on whom she could lean.

All at once she felt sharp pains,
So strong they made her cry out.
For he who was inside of her
Was eager to be born and shout.

She put on her coat and went out
To search for a nearby pay phone;
On the streets of downtown St. Paul,
She walked in the cold alone.

The winds of winter bit her flesh
As the snow kept tumbling down.
With all its windows rolled up tight,
An old unlocked car she found.

She got inside and just in time
For her child to be born on the seat.
Then came the pain of a mother's reign,
As her baby kicked free with his feet.

She bundled him up in her coat
To keep winter's chill away
Then, fell back to rest awhile
And saw the lights of a café.

She knew it was late at night,
Not likely would someone walk by;
So, back she went into the snow
Only caring her child not die.

She made her way to the diner,
Half naked in the ice and snow.
How she felt inside
Only other mothers would know.

With her frozen hands she pushed the door.
As her bone-cold body fell in,
Seven patrons jumped up asking,
"What happened, where and when?"

She told them of her child's birth
And the place where he could be found.
Then, out the door they all ran
Following her trail on the ground

Now that baby is thirty-five
And stands at the spot he was born.
"My mother died so I'd survive,
Her loss I’ll forever mourn."

By Tom Zart

-Tom Zart -

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SNOWBOUND BIRTH

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