She starts at every loud voice in the lobby,
And holes up in a corner where she can see the door.
Her children’s lives are packed in a bag;
Her own life is crammed in a purse.
And with every name called out to those waiting,
She hopes freedom is just an intake away.
It was a moment’s awareness that the end had come,
Something final in his voice and his stare.
She waited until she was sure he was gone,
Then rushed the children from sleep to out there.
And with every footfall they’ve wearily taken,
She hoped freedom was just an intake away.
Now she waits in battered silence, some eyes on her face,
One child held tightly while the others play near.
She keeps her eyes shifting between entrance and hallway,
Waiting between terror and elation as they
Call her name loudly, smile as she comes back,
And she knows she has freedom just this intake away.
