The Embryo

The Embryo

 

I swelled

your breasts

with tenderness-

caused you to

rest mid-afternoon.

        I was your escort

                to the ladies’ room,

                                      the heartburn,

                                            the cravings,

                                               the sensitivity

                                                   of your smells,

                                       the pink flesh swinging

                                                   on your moods,

                                        pounding on your scale.

                                                  I was the tiny cells

                                 protected by your womb.

                            I loved you too soon.

                      Naïve blood streamed

                    to my unsuspecting

                   tomb less shell.

  Every time the wind blows

my breath shall curdle

in your ear

Mommy…

as I pick

wild daisies

near shadowed

mountain peaks

and with nature’s

lullabies

cajole myself

to sleep.

 

Shawn R. Jones

Reprinted from Womb Rain

(Finishing Line Press, 2008)