Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Spun and Seeing Babies

Never had I felt so dizzy,
Your baby reached for my dradled life,
Lay his unborn hand on my smoked edges,
And I saw his face; predicted,
For a moment, saw his unrelated grace,
‘He’s just a baby’, I said,
‘What’s he doing…smiling at me?’
Charmed, looking up
To see you lean over and take him
In your long-forgotten arms,
Never had I felt so dizzy,
He wasn’t looking at me,
Just looking at where I was standing,
And you couldn’t see me,
You weren’t even there,
And neither was your child,
Just me and the dealer and a kitchen at night,
And never had I felt so dizzy
As to lie down and try to cry
And wash my eyes of those visions

No comments:

Post a Comment