Monday, May 12, 2014

Grace




















After the deep bath
where they breathed together
After the rug from Azerbaijan has been rolled up

The deep red duvet cover
ripples
red waves spilling to the floor
reminding me of an oil painting
I saw once
in a window in the Marais

Picture a man leaning over the textured fabric
intent
watching for movement
looking
for the outline of a leg
the movement of a hand

His eyes lift
He looks at me

There is a sound
Is it purring?
Yes
"like a tiger" he whispers
"like a lioness across the plain" I whisper
Yes

She is labouring in her cave
far from us

under the fabric
hair clinging to her forehead
like a toddler's hair clings to his neck
after a nap

We have our hands
light
on pulse points
hand touching ankle
hand touching wrist

stillness

Light crosses from the window to the bed
Lioness
Light

And the baby is coming

As the cherry trees
spill confetti onto the sidewalk outside

- Jacquie Munro

 (Thanks to Grace's mum and dad for being present and slow for her birth)