Pop - a poem

My son, Austin, turned 12 the other day, which got me thinking back to his birth.
He was born at home, after a long labor by his mother. Our midwife was concerned that he felt cold and handed him over to me shortly after his birth, with novel instructions for warming him up. In honor of Austin's birthday, I wrote the following poem for him.

For Austin

Pop
By Malcolm McDowell Woods

Your first clothing was a makeshift pouch of bubble wrap.
You were cold and blue.
“Hold him close and keep him warm,” the midwife said.
So I try.
From those first few moments
Of your first few breaths
Your mother exhausted, spent
And me dazed.
Pop!
My muscles involuntarily becoming the muscles of a parent
Swaying, swirling.
Humming.
With my baby boy in my arms
Close and warm
Held to my chest.
As, one by one,
Bubbles popped.

Hold him close and keep him warm, she said.
I try.
Pop.

Comments

[Ella]

This is great info to know.