Poetry #9 – Six-Month Scan

 

Six Month Scan

Your tiny head large

on body curled

a bud

waiting to flower



your tiny hand

devastating in perfection

reaches

already impatient

to grasp life

beyond black and white

womb images

three strings of pearls

drift in and out of focus

exquisite vertebral beauty

glowing

rib filaments form

fragile cage

sheltering beating heart.