I wrote this poem looking
at Eugène Delacroix’s painting
of Medea (see below), and then
I saw women who had left their
homes to join ISIS taking their
children with them, and Medea
became uncannily modern…
Medea
look!
how tender the touch
how in full light
i hold my children tight
naked
my breasts engorged with milk
the cave was our refuge
on this sunny day
the wind blowing softly
they were taking a bath
look!
those chubby legs
bare-bottomed
little creatures
naked innocence
—i heard nothing
look!
how tender
i hold my children
tight
—the sword is gold
furious and fierce
i held them in my flight
