Thursday, June 10, 2010


in the eruption and sick quickening
with only sweat and fluid between
we made fingernails, eyelashes.

a small collection of bones.
the easy flesh and un-kept
DNA, parcel by parcel delivered.

the rain came a tendril
or two against my cheek
the air smelled like birth gut.

this baby rolled and punched,
thunder rolled in announcement.
in the wild,

things do happen like this.
too amazing to be believed
for we have forsaken our own

bodies and land-
seeking thrills
we own by birthright.

here, put your mouth on this
swollen river, your hand against the world.
someone is speaking to us
SJ said...

I am willing your baby to hang on, grow and be strong. I am in your corner, 100 percent, and so glad to know you!

Thank you for the comment you just posted--a true compliment, and one of the nicest that I have gotten in a long time.

Brigindo said...


Alexis Rivas said...

Loving this poem. Congrats on your pregnancy. My sis just had her fourth a couple of months ago - go figure.

Lindsey said...

Breathtaking. Beautiful.

oliolioli said...

You are amazing! Thank you for the comment on my blog. I really love yours, it makes me want to update mine more this summer. All your entries are worth reading. <3

Drax said...


Ms. Moon said...

I knew it.
Ah love.
When I got pregnant with my firstborn, I was in the shower and this tiny rhyme came to me:
Is there a baby here within
Growing nails and teeth and skin?

And that's how I knew. That was my positive pregnancy test. I will never forget.

izzabitz said...

I love the beautiful earthiness of your poetry. Really lovely.

Elizabeth said...

Beautiful. I detect movement?

Okie said...

that's a very cool poem...nice imagery. It's a very intriguing and lovely way to portray the creation of life

Bee said...

Creation is (and will ever be) a mystery.

Jeanne Estridge said...

Truly lovely.

(And put my vote down in favor of the pictures below. And for any loving decisions you make about how to raise your kids. Because no matter what you choose, some of it will turn out to be good, and some will be a mistake, and the best you can do is good intentions and a lot of love and just a whole lot of luck).

Not to be nosy (which, of course, I am) but did you wind up with a dry socket from your extraction?

Maggie May said...

no dry socket, Jeanne, i had an infection, which !@#*! hurt! but it's better now with antibiotics, and you are sweet to ask :)

yes, movement Elizabeth!

* said...

Magnificent poem, Maggie. I fear I have poem envy (in a good way).

anymommy said...

You make me embarrassed that you've ever read anything I've written. Truly. I look forward to all that Biggie Pea will have to tell us.

Blunt Delivery said...

that was amazing. but i absolutely loved how you worded that first verse. perfect.

congratulations my dear.

justmakingourway said...

Oh, those flutters. Those wonderful, joyful flutters of life.

Only A Girl said...

That last line made me cry and hunt my daughter down for a hug. Beautiful.

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