Forgotten Third
BY CAROLINE PILGRIM A eulogy upon hearing of a friend-of-a-friend's choice to abort I never met you, unformed face, Never met the three of you. Three driving in the damp drizzle across the bridges, Across the tall-treed tundra of trepidations. Two with great cups of suffering Bitter cups they chose to buy, Chose to drink, lying in accidental lies, The laying conceived you, The Third. Third faceless face, voiceless voice, Uniquely ignored, delivered to deliverlessness, And des