Winter Bird


Sloppy kisses to beads of sweat

Hands latched…squeezing, holding, grasping

It was the day everything would change

The pregnancy books, the movies, the stories…they were nothing

Forgotten in the Experience

Dark curls hung like Weeping Willows

Encouragement met deaf ears

Pain was the focus of the hour

A scream, blood, mingling terror – a horror show that would forever evoke nostalgia

Not pretty, not beautiful…natural

His first breath came as a roar

He was indignant

Skin the shade of the blizzard that marked his birth

Body so small it was only the blind that didn’t know he had come three weeks early

Survival was a question left open-ended

They rid him of the blood that proved he fought a war to be born

The blanket is a soft blue, swallowing him like an ocean

A little thing…tiny, small, verging on invisible

Fingers stretched, clawed for the female who sobbed the name he would come to know

A winter bird seeking warmth

But engulfed in the cold



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