Murderer's Incantation
or
What to say to your wife while stabbing her thirteen times

One...Here,
Two...Take this,
Three...You bitch!
Four...You can't leave me.
Five...Whore!
Six...He doesn't love you.
Seven...Fool.
Eight...You're mine.
Nine...Forever!
Ten...Fuck You.
Eleven...You should have known.
Twelve...I'd never let you go!
Thirteen...Got to stop--I'm tired.

....Why Me?

  - Shirley Pierce Bostrom, October 1996

We later learned that he stabbed her 16 times and there were also numerous defense wounds. Any of six different wounds would have been fatal. Four were through the heart.

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Fragmented Thoughts on My Daughter's Death

Lover, Murderer,
Wife killer,
Out of control

Butcher Knife
Clenched hands.
Instruments of death.

Recognition, Disbelief,
Comprehension, Terror
Don't do this!

Cries, Screams,
Barking, Begging,
Death is coming.

Water, Blood,
Thirteen wounds,
Naked and lifeless.

Kitchen, Bathroom,
Thirty-nine Steps.
Time to think.

Choices, Consequences,

Walk away or pay
An eye for an eye.

Sorrow, Pain,
Anger, Frustration,
Why's he alive?

Sister, Aunt,
No More
Love to give.

My daughter
Dead, Gone.
He killed Her.

  - Shirley Pierce Bostrom

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Loss and Guilt

On the day you died
you were coming home.
I grumbled as I cleaned your bed.
I was going to Rhode Island
to build sand castles with my friends.
I knew you'd understand.
I'd see you Sunday, or next Saturday.

If you were coming home today
I'd change all my plans.
I'd clean your room from top to bottom.
There'd be chili and pecan pie.
I'd wait with roses and Mouton Cadet,
in eager anticipation, for your arrival.
What a difference a day makes!

  - Shirley Pierce Bostrom, November 1996

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Eastern Autumn

The sky is so blue, Margaret.
The clouds puffy and white.
The air crisp and invigerating.
The day is a great one to be alive--in New England.

The maples are bright crimson, yellow, and scarlett.
Contrasting deep green pine trees,
Orange and golden leaves are also part of nature's pallet.
How can I be sad on a day like this?

How can I ever be happy again?
You came east looking forward to autumn's magic.
But in August, you left this life forever.
So many dreams unfulfilled.

I feel your touch, hear your gentle whisper,
Ma, don't cry. I can see all the magic from here.
My view is vast and quite beautiful.
But I can't see you, Margaret.

  - Shirley Pierce Bostrom, Autumn of 1996

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Forgiveness

A doctor and a friend both told me,
Margie is the only one who can forgive Mitch.
Not likely soon. Right, Margie?
He stole her life, robbed her family.
She hears her mother's desperate cries.
Sees her father's tears.
Watches her sisters searching for answers.
Weeps because of her niece's confusion
and for the nephew who will never
Know how much she loved us all.
Mitch, you'll have to wait.
Forgiveness doesn't come easily
Without understanding.
Your act was despicable, incomprehensible.
Pay the price--Your life without parole.
Then forgiveness may come.
Right, Margie?

  - Shirley Pierce Bostrom, October. 6, 1996

Now, twenty -and-a-half months later,
I know you will give only twenty-six years
Of your life for hers.
The judge has heard both sides,
Made his decision,feels it's fair.
Legally it could have been less.
It isn't enough, but it will have to do.
Of course, Mitch, you can always appeal.
There is no earthly appeal for Margie or us.
A higher tribunal will decide
What the final payment will be.
Without your true repentance.
It will surly be substantial.
Right, Margie and God?

  - Shirley Pierce Bostrom, May 4, 1998

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