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| My own Mother…just 3 years ago. |
ripening--
nature
taking her time
fulfilling her term.
The moment
chooses itself,
invisible.
Heavy in these palms
pressing down
on these shoulders
I bow…
Pains asking me
what
have I known of pain?
My open bones
yield to pressure…
some breath
is breathing me.
I writhe
pushing deeper
into the Earth
beyond my body,
surging upward.
I straighten
brace myself
against the hardwood frame
my pelvis circling
I bear down
and scream
primeval--
oh mama.
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