in the dead of the day

in the dead of the day,

pregnant women

fade away

into a back alley and into memory

where nothing is free

nothing is as it seems

remembering childhood dreams

and playgrounds and school books

gathering dust 

and second looks

down to the final seconds

intention and free will

perched on a lonely window sill

waiting for a reprieve, 

watching the scene

as the courts convene

and laws are changed

remarked upon, suddenly rearranged

like a fashionable hair style

and a magazine models' noon-day smile

moving month to month 

from behind the nearest door,

or the ballroom dance floor

where music can be heard

with every breath and every single word.

there's tragedy at the core

of what 

is never asked for

or planned

when individual choices

are criticized and banned.

in the dead of the day,

pregnant women

fade away

into a back alley and into memory

where nothing is free

nothing is as it seems

remembering childhood dreams

and playgrounds and school books

gathering dust 

and second looks.