On Childbirth

image borrowed from bing

On Childbirth


Vivid memories linger in my mind
of the day when you were born

I stepped on a spider the night before
hundreds of babies scattered about
one for each butterfly in my stomach
a premonition, or so it seemed;
I was waiting for your call.

Blank weariness forced me to bed
where necessity eluded comfort
cinder blocks from which my head arose
ceased to ease my knotted throat
filled with burning acid
tangled sheets, disquietude
would I answer when you called?

At two a.m. nature nudged me
liquid rained upon dead spiders
in the bathroom where I stood
spewing forth displaced confusion
that silenced by the still of night

spun musky webs of lost excitement
when doc said to wait ‘til morn’
and vain attempts to wake your father
stuck in time like weak contractions.

I spent stretched hours playing Solitaire
the only one awake for miles it seemed
until you, my dark-haired beauty
answered the call next day at noon
with lungs no song could fill
and love no words could pen
a life transformed through grace
forever.

laurie Kolp

Posted over on her site Bird's Eye Gemini
Listed as #21 over on dVerse Poets--Open Link Night 22