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Gary Carr

Love Letter

The summer before your birth
was full of new things,
your soft stomached proto-mother,
for once uncomfortable in the heat,
a stranger to my hands and mind.

All that taut autumn,
as if they could predict
something more important
than the stretch of my arms
close around you both.

November: you walked
your mother’s stomach many times;
she travelled from complexity
to receptacle around those ghosts of footprints
circumnavigating her role.

Before that year’s end I held you.
New, blue eyes as yet unbrowned by life;
showed you this world from a window
where it snowed, a unique graining
that feathered imperfections to silk.



Copyright © Gary Carr, 2012