At the half-acre edge yesterday
We searched the underbelly of tall grasses,
The womb’s dark corridors dilated 10cm.
Perfect, round bodies are extracted.
We cut their umbilical cords. They… winced.
Swathed in nurturing arms
We carry sextuplets inside our home,
Their button- buttons already outies.
We imagine their faces, beautiful fractures,
On Halloween emitting a soft, orange glow.

Written for Postcrossing.


Brain Stir said...

Well written and I liked the flow. The postcard is too beautiful. I was expectng to see a pic of some fuzzy little somethings but actually I prefer landscapes.

Cynthia said...

Oh Michelle, a mysterious, quality
in your poem, a haunting of wonder.
You've written her so lovingly.