In the shadow of a greater power
the woman knew her time would come
her headscarf veils vast falling flowers.

In luminous certainty of the dream
expanding clouds cannot obscure
her voice; tasting acrid fear now she screams

not hatred for ‘Great Satan' but for joy.
Wide hips carry the hidden child,
breasts bulge with plastic beauty for the boys -

‘All American' soon to meet the fate -
her birth pangs and a different war,
her body bursting in another place.