The Broken Doll

My little porcelain doll
has slipped out of my hands
fallen to the ground
delicate
shattered
is this how she feels?
now
having lost her child
broken memory pieces on the floor
slicing her feet into ribbons
shattering the natural protective path
she carried  her child's world in her hands
 all the mothers walk
she has a heartbeat to keep in a blossom, never  flowered
she turns to a route unheard.