Mother: In the Time of Reprieve

The dream is green
and I am fetus,

to your emerald bones
in that time,
before …

Clovered to you.
In the last free place,
verdant, rich

the shining pelvis bone
to which I cling.

I flare at your waist
unwilling to live outside:
my first bit of real intelligence.

A forcepped birth,
in the year of our weariness,

Squeezing of the tongs
traumatic birth

How the scene
now stubbornly asserts itself
again and again …

extracted …
the patient etherized:

Before I disappoint
or let you down

Before you disappoint
or let me down

Before numbers or stars,
Before language
before notions of beginnings
or endings

Before a hand is raised,
before a hand existed at all,

Before the brain.
Sensing the body forming
quickly and slowly

Here come the fingers
small toes, frog heart
amphibious in the watery dark

In the time before the world
had anything against us yet.

In the time of reprieve—
suspended, lingering:

In the time before ...


Poetry by Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 365 times
Written on 2015-08-28 at 16:09

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
This is really great. From start to finish is speaks of before known life and a desire get back to when things have not begun. Even before the time of mother.

I've never thought of "before" before . . . I think only a woman could write this, and then only one with your sensibility and art to express it in such insightful and nuanced images.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a fabulous poem, Ashe. Yes, what goes on in there, and how are the options available to the thing growing in there narrowed before the thing even comes into being?

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
i meant to say— life as potential. you seemed to know it. and the reprieve belongs to . . . ? both of you?

the inner-journey is beautifully described, and the sense of "before," which implies so much about what came later.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
life as potential.