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Artwork by Gotch

                           This Poem is for My Son

                           At the start you grew
                           hooked to me,
                           took shape as you should
                           in the strange
                           possibility of permutations.

                           From my largest cell you did spring,
                           dividing, multiplying, drifting, shifting,
                           burrowing in the womb wall. You took shape.
                           Head and tail, buds of arm, leg, heartbeat,
                           paddle hands, webbed fingers and toes, my little
                           ducky, puppy asleep at the base of my spine,
                           turning on our cord connection, my body
                           making room for you, my heart growing larger
                           for you.  You must hear this as I rock here
                           and you have turned to go live outside
                           the danger zone.

                           You inhabit me still.  I loved you
                           before you were
                           large enough to see, loved you
                           before you were
                           even an idea.

                           (c)Andrena Zawinski
                           (Child appeared in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette.)

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