confused with creation
as I felt our creation kick:
nestled, shaded
plucked and pink
supine and stoic,
a tiny tendril of what would become, for us,
a sweetly ubiquitous
thing.
our entire lives,
one dappled, sleepy,
half-over
sunday afternoon.
Sarah Gajkowski-Hill works as a writer at the University of Houston. She has had recent poems published in the Josephine Quarterly and Amygdala. She enjoys classic rock and listening to her children play Legend of Zelda theme music on the family’s piano.
Clementine Poetry Journal 