by | Nov 23, 2013 | Blog, My Poems, My Writing Challenges


The body is pregnant                     with limbs

and dismemberment—they tremble

                    and clutch. Their mouths are open

and closed again, the green bodies                     like ghosts

                    turning over, a foot thrusting outward,

another hand reaching                     gripping

                    emptiness. It reaches for you and gathers

nothing, is not angry—tries                     again.

                    This is how you know these are the earliest signs

of motherhood—all that came before (windy breeze)

                    was the carrying.