Poems by
Mary Mathew

The only thing left sacred

a poem by Mary Mathew

Even the scars remain unaware
Of how its wounds bled,
The mutilated rosy skin
Battered a woman’s honour.
Is there anything sacred left
In this world?
I ask of Thee…
If so, let it be a woman’s body-
A child’s sheltered core,
A man’s motherly figure.