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Birth Might Be
by Rosemarie Crisafi
A hurried, heavy decline,
a cherub evolving
from cervix to vagina,
whistling, a locomotive overloaded,
reluctant,
squeezing: pulling back then onward,
only to lurch and moan.
Struggling,
from a tadpole
to a limbed thing, no longer buoyant
in the slippery chute.
A blurred heave down the shaft,
lit for the first time, clumsily
grimacing, lingering a little,
breathless and blue with uncertainty
finally arriving
alarmed
in an arctic realm,
anonymous but only to itself. A name is now given
to one howling
for what will never be remembered.
Rosemarie Crisafi lives in Fishkill, New York. She works for a non-for-profit agency that serves individuals with disabilities. Most recently her poetry has appeared in BlazeVox 2K5, Tattoo Highway, Lily, Wicked Alice Poetry Journal, elimae, Avatar Review, The SurfaceOnline, and Poems Niederngasse. Her writing has also been published in Red River Review, Triplopia, Dirt, Perigee, Canopic Jar, The Rose & the Thorn, Quill and Ink,
Locust Magazine, Poetic Diversity, Eclectica, Facets, SubtleTea, Millers Pond, 2River View, Nthposition and elsewhere. Other poems have been accepted for future publication in Snow Monkey, Whistling Shade, and ken*again.
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