In scene almost Dickensian, dark alley, mildewed walls and dust-drawn windows eyeless gaze on young child’s pain. She hugs her blanket tight to narrow shoulders, shaking chest, then rests herself in nest of ragged straw. Rat shares the delectation of its grain.
A sudden cloud-break calls to passing stranger, turns her round, the sky resounding, sunlight dripped on rain, prismatic archways cutting angel’s paths through heaven’s refrain.
God-sent, the woman bends to see while shaking child falls still. She pulls away the blanket; wailing cry. In scene almost Dickensian, she draws an orphaned infant from the hay. Angels ask why.