Tag Archives: pregnancy

She weeps
and listens close.
The doctor whispers words
she cannot hear, but understands.
She breathes.

At home,
the trailing vines
do more than hide
her childless, shame-filled arms.
They give

desire
to see things grow.
She digs and sings her joy,
and patiently she waits for rain
to change

the shame
and bitter tears
to cheer and sprouting seeds.
Among the blooming, twilit night
she sits

beside
her grief and pain.
She smiles, her gardeners’ thumb
on full display among the blooms.
She kneels

beside
the trailing vines
she digs, she sings her joy
into the blooming, twilit night.
She weeps.

*This poem is a garland cinquain for those that are interested in that kind of thing.