Firstborn

31 08 2007

Under a quivering canopy of leaves,
Lulled by the low-hummed melody of bees,
On a clean blanket upholstered by green grass
The end of my childhood has come to pass.
You sweet baby, so fragile, so small-
So terribly innocent of anything at all!
Your hands splay and spasm, your legs pull in,
My universe upends at the tremble in your chin.
Your face turns groping, your tiny mouth seeks,
Your warm lips brush moist on the curve of my cheek.
So hungry, so thirsty, quite consumed by need!
Then tippling and nodding with satiate greed.
How could a Mother be made in my place
By this wee sleekit morsel, smallest scrap of our race?
Bemused, I hardly can tell what I’ve become,
Delirious in love, drowning in sun,
Drowsing then waking all along afternoon
to kiss you my sun, my starshine, my moon.

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One response

20 09 2007
Carolyn Mejia

your poetry is absolutely without a doubt my favorite. this is beautiful, Angela!

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