
Still Born Poem
January 08, 2023
Sudden word-pangs
And images, long curled in fetal stillness
Stirred, and stetched,
And nudged against the womb-walls of my mind.
It seemed the ripe-time,
Very edge of birthing!
But mid-wife, Beauty,
Somehow lacked the gentler touch.
She was TOO swift,
Too savage.
And that first ecstatic cry came forth
A mute—
To be forever swaddled in a
wonder-silence!
Posted in
Sister Miriam Therese Putzer