The pear is a natural shape that hears gravity
and sees itself reflected in the arms of a woman
cradling the baby that grows within her.

She may stand by a window
transformed, mutated to beauty
that she never anticipated and never sees
The light slopes softly through gauzy curtains
trailing over a stray tendril of hair
as she smiles feeling the life within testing her already

He stands nearby, amazed by what she is giving him
in awe that she has committed her body to him
to make this life that is and will be theirs for a time
He trembles clenches his jaw his fists joyous
to think that she is so demonstrating her total love for him
that she will spend almost no time with him for the next twenty years

He watches her
She knows

It has begun

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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