Who will believe me?

Who?

And what if no one does?

What then?

I march through the next day

numb, that one question

circling my mind

like a vulture

ready to pick my thoughts clean.

I feel my belly,

flat as ever,

and close my eyes,

remembering the fire

of God’s touch,

hearing the echo of the word

Messiah.

And what about Joseph?

We are as good as married,

our betrothal

as binding as any other,

and nothing less than

a paper of divorcement

could end it.

Of course, we have never

shared a bed,

nor will we

until our wedding night.

So, if I truly am with child,

Joseph will know

the father

is someone else.

And what will Joseph-

No. I am not yet ready

to consider

what hard or bitter things

might await me

in the distance.

Besides, the Lord Jehovah

will meet me there.

Yes?

“Are you deaf?”

My mother’s voice penetrates,

unwelcome,

reaching me easily from downstairs.

“What?”

“Is your homework done?”

she asks.

I trade Mary, Mary for my notebook,

and yell down “Soon!”

That’s as close to the truth

as I can manage.

Lucky for me, I’m a good student.

By the time she calls “Lights out,”

I’m done.

I flip the switch.

“Goodnight,” says Mom.

“Goodnight,” I answer.

I place Mary, Mary beneath my pillow

and feel a little closer

to God.