WELLING UP inside your eyes
A sky is born above you
And ANEW your stars cry out

This morning I watch
knitted clavicles of light
hurtle in and up the wall
in my half-packed
living room, while cubes
of fresh spring hew
strongholds in the
birded birch yard.
But I am ready to leave
all of it for the ruptured
gray weeks, the rain lash,
the fog bars, the burnt sea,
the little tilts of rainbow -
for her - would she have me?

feeling
the instinctive response
of the puppy
    three months old
to my cuddling her on my lap
letting her chew
     gently on my thumb
turning on her back
     so I can stroke her belly
she looks like she is in dog heaven

unfiltered pleasure and trust

Two pink lines on the pregnancy test,
I became a mother instead of a doctor.
8/3/2031