Aquatint


Face up, your daughter pushes off
From the pool’s tiled edge, her seven years
Framed by a glistening embroidery of ripples.

The water cascades across her grace,
Faceting the midday sun. You call her name –
And she looks up, a smile quivering on her lips.

For a moment she glides, serene,
A tranquil still-life, opal-speckled,
Captured bliss, like her earliest portrait…

I can see her so clearly, the way you described her,
Her tiny frame still floating in her mother’s pool,
Seven months inside, a misty outline of silver

And stars, shimmering in ultrasound.
They told you, a boy, but your heart whispered
To you her secret, even then. You called her name –

And there she was, her silhouette, your face,
Trifling fingers clasping her umbilical, small tongue
Stretched out, lapping your amniotic love.


12 comments:

  1. Hauntingly lovely....

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  2. Someone reading this poem once told me that she loved the phrase 'amniotic love' and that only a mother would fully understand.

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  3. Love the way this one folds in on itself.

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  4. This made me smile. It reminded me of seeing my son first waving to me in his ultrasound screening :)

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  5. Life is a series of small miracles.

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  6. you can put yourself in anothers place and your own at the same time, and us in two or three as well

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  7. But what's really special is that you get that relationship... most men only pretend to... your family is lucky to have you. I love the drawn parallel here... lovely.

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  8. Paul Grai12:56:00 AM

    at first i thought about my daughter swimming while we were back in at a beach resort. then i realized it was more like my daughter when she was born. :-)
    i recall the joy i felt the moment she was born (i was there in the operating room assisting because my wife and i opted to experience a lamaze birth. :-)

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  9. I'm touched by all the kind words, thank you.

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  10. Exquisite. Thank you for this poem.

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  11. Short link - http://bit.ly/s4aquatint

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  12. Beautiful, lyrical and perfect for a Mother's Day post.



    "I can see her so clearly, the way you described her,
    Her tiny frame still floating in her mother’s pool,
    Seven months inside, a misty outline of silver"

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