A Birth
from Gathering Wild
The birches were luminous
canopies above
as shadow-barred you
disappeared among white trunks.
From that October, winter long,
mute with loss and wondering
I kept to the lonesome house.
Now one resounding crack
far in the woods means
winter breaks;
and I suddenly find
I've been pregnant with hope.
See how love moves
on it's own little feet
out into the world?
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