new born song

...not very good.

music comes too soon
from the ready lips
of a newborn,

 

as if the swell of her chest
had become a tragic denouement,
our sighs but gauche
to flickering ears.

 

that all sound and sign turn
poppy-red; disfigured,
awkward-
rudely pressing,

 

entirely unwelcome.
but amongst the vanguard of this
downtrodden mass there is one
whose eyes still watch
for the smallest sign
that life has not
forsaken us, or this
little one.

 

so,
we wait.