The Broadcast
by Mary Beth Magee
She cuddled the baby to her breast,
Watched the rhythm of his tiny chest
Rising and falling in contented breaths
As he nursed.
Joy filled her heart.
Across the room, the television
Provided a low background soundtrack
For the nest of her living room.
The unexpected flash of the logo,
A breaking news announcement
Drew her attention from the child.
Disaster and devastation the anchor announced.
Images of destruction filled the screen
As he told of an earthquake
Half a world away.
The tragedy gripped her heart,
But she gave thanks it wasn’t her tragedy.
As the scene shifted once again, she gasped.
There among the ruins, a woman coated in dust
And smeared with blood and mud crouched,
Nursing a baby amid the chaos.
The foreign woman raised her head,
Seemed to look straight at her,
Making eye contact through the camera lens.
Two mothers with their babies,
Connecting through a broadcast
Found the commonality of love for a child.
They shrunk the world
From an indecipherable, overwhelming disaster
To two women,
Desperate to protect their babies.
She wept as she realized
The other woman’s tragedy was her tragedy, too.
***
Mary Beth Magee has been writing prose and poetry for as long as she can remember, with an aim to uplift, illuminate, and inspire. Her work has appeared in local, regional, and national periodicals of both professional and nonprofessional nature as well as her own books and numerous anthologies. She lives in south Mississippi and serves as the Mississippi Poetry Society's 2025 Poet of the Year. She is a mother and grandmother.
Comments