i.
In Lynden, Northwest Washington, brushing the Sumac border of Canada,
stretches a cemetery for aborted children.
Tiny crosses, rows upon rows, and a church.
Fields without corn, without grain, without nourishment, only crosses.
ii.
In my twelve-year-old daughter's womb an eight-week old embryo.
though I have not seen the Ultrasound
I stare aware
that this mesh of DNA lives
a cluster of cells germinating,
becoming human.
iii.
In Skagit County Jail my daughter's sixth grade elementary school teacher
in jail awaiting charges
and even though he has not killed
anyone, my daughter
bears a choice.
And yet in Lynden, as they build tiny crosses, and splatter crimson blood on billboards,
and execrate loss and outrage at thousands of murders
I wonder if my daughter will feel consoled
knowing one of those crosses
will be for her.
Caleb Powell traveled and taught English overseas for eight years, living in South Korea, Taiwan, Thailand, Denmark, United Arab Emirates, Brazil, and Argentina. He is the author of a teacher's guide, The World is a Class. His novel, The Disappearances of Harrison, was short-listed (and a long short-list at that) in the 2007 William Faulkner - William Wisdom Writing Competition. He has a short story forthcoming in Descant.