Thursday, May 23, 2013

Birthright

Little reflections of all the good that came before you
flitter across your newly-minted self.
You are a pinkened version of your grandfather,
and father, and me.
I can see, in you, the piano-player fingers
of my youngest brother, the wide eyes
of my cousin Ruth.
I see my mother in the strong set to your shoulders.

Seeing you now, with not even a day behind you,
I have no trouble believing you might become a God.




Emily Harris Adams considers herself a long-expecting mother: 3 years so far. Sometimes, instead of writing what she knows, Emily writes what she dreams. Some of her other poems include "Empty Linen," "Second Coming," and "Another Testament."

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