Tuesday, January 06, 2009
A little poem
I wrote this poem about a year ago, when I was still pregnant, but my hormone-addled brain promptly lost the thing before I could give it to my midwife. I recently found it tucked into a notebook and am posting it here for all as a sign of my thanks.
Ode to a midwife
The neon sign above her desk says OPEN.
I get the joke and the suggestion.
Beyond the back door, ajar, birds zip and bees buzz in the garden.
On the sidetable near the easy chair
Is a bowl of cherries.
That is not just a metaphor.
It is truth.
She made me art,
A rubbing of two leaves, in blue.
She made me cry, an unlocking of my fears.
She sang a song,
Read a poem,
Told me to pee in a cup
And hop on the scale -
But only if I wanted to.
She listened to the baby's heart,
Heard the beats and hiccups,
Felt a head
And waited patiently for the day that he arrived.