오예진
메마른 잿빛 햇살 아래
하얀 이불 위 작은 숨결이
무심한 바람에도 휘휘 흔들린다
앙상한 가지 끝에 간신히 매달려
결국 힘없이 낙하하는
한창 여름의 나뭇잎처럼
너는 연약하구나
조그만 너를 따스히 품지도
온전히 밀어내지도 못한 세상 속
바삐 살아가는 사람들의
냉담한 발끝에 휩쓸릴 것만 같아
푸르름이 가득한 이 계절에
생명이 끓어 넘치는 이 순간에
너 홀로 숨 가쁠까 두렵다
첫 여름을 함께 했다고
다음 여름도 함께 할 거라고
어여쁘게 커갈 너에게 말해줄 수 있었더라면
I read a news article recently.
There was a baby born in the middle of summer, diagnosed with a condition called ‘single umbilical artery’, which led to multiple disabilities. Overwhelmed by this shock and suffering from postpartum depression, the mother believed that her daughter would live a life full of hardship and discrimination. Full of despair, she smothered her with a blanket and killed her. Immediately after the incident, the confessed her wrong doing to the police. Of course, this act is not justifiable in any way, but it makes one reflect on what kind of emotions the mother might have felt as a parent. What it must have been like to end the relationship with her first child by her own hand.
This motivated me to write a poem about it, in perspective of the mother.
