Ultrasound
(To
my unborn son)
Refracted
by water
like
a silver fish,
not
pausing beneath sounds,
turning
which way.
Through
darkness,
through
warm waters,
and
the constant beat of my heart,
you
flash fast.
“We’ve
a wriggler here,”
she
said,
seeking
you out
like
a shoal of cod.
The
suddenly you are still
and
stand clear
upon
the screen
– a
small child
with
head and flickering heart.
We
measure the circumference
of
your skull,
your
femur and spine.
It
is not time yet
to
draw you in,
into
this cold airbound world.
This poem was first published in The Rialto
