In the world of
black and white,
there is . . .
Columns
Reviews
Original Material
My Child
by Jennifer Hill
I
felt you in my uterus
Growing
for a brief moment
Your
faceless father wandered
Somewhere
– dreaming of your tiny feet,
And
the way you’ll dance on his toes.
Your
brilliant picture flashed
Across
my TV screen
And
my comatose maternal instinct
Resurrected
itself for a fleeting glimpse
At
the unparalleled power of
Created
human life.
I
felt your affectionate fingers
Pressing
toward my face and
Enter
my mouth
As
I laughed and
My
chest swelled with a wave of pride.
And
on the commercial break
I
picked up my novel
Letting
you slip away to the heart of Heaven
Hoping
you would not return for some time,
And
your anonymous father
Stubbed
his toe on the curb
Leaving
the dance hall for another day.
Copyright©2000 FelixGirl