Artwork by Gotch
This Poem is for My Son
At the start you grew
hooked to me,
took shape as you should
in the strange
possibility of permutations.
From my largest cell you did spring,
dividing, multiplying, drifting, shifting,
burrowing in the womb wall. You took shape.
Head and tail, buds of arm, leg, heartbeat,
paddle hands, webbed fingers and toes, my little
ducky, puppy asleep at the base of my spine,
turning on our cord connection, my body
making room for you, my heart growing larger
for you. You must hear this as I rock here
and you have turned to go live outside
the danger zone.
You inhabit me still. I loved you
before you were
large enough to see, loved you
before you were
even an idea.
(c)Andrena Zawinski
(Child appeared in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette.)
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