Swerve

Every mother knows when she looks down                                                         

at her baby for the very first time

She knows her heart is never going to be the same

Her body like a flattened red balloon she tried to resurrect

it will never carry air again

A mother knows as she looks down at her bloated belly

she feels the outer ring of the storm as it bumps along the coast

trees will bend and tilt

Mothers know the fragility and the enormity all at once 

First a ping, then a gong; this new person

and she cries out loud for grace!

How come no one told her about the inside out and the upside down?

Face!

Her heart is now like a baggy sweatshirt

she’s wearing it the wrong way

You can read the tag, she cannot –

she’s too close to the words

Beautiful child, a fresh petal, a pliable stalk, a soft shell

you’ll carry her hopes and dreams

She’s your mother

She’s already crawled to the edge of the fountain and scooped up water

with her cupped palms 

She’s cried, screamed, and howled for you

Now she beats at her chest to let the world know

her protection will move mountains

Every mother knows about the speckled madness right outside her window –

a twinkling city of nameless souls

Where will she fit in?

Where will she start

The nurse comes in, it’s time for a prick

And so, the games begin

she must duck, pivot, and invent

This is how she will grow this person 

Mountains?

What mountains?

She’ll roll them up, double the crease                                                 

 tuck her head as she descends