Sadbh

Csontváry_Kosztka,_Tivadar_-_Deer_(1893)

Watching him leave at dawn,
A star fading in the morning light,
She longs to become a curled bud,
To follow him as perfume in his hair.
She knows, as surely as she feels
The curled bud in her belly stretching,
As she feels the birth pangs beginning,
That darkness will claim her before he returns.
How, she does not know,
But she wraps his scent around her,
Wraps her arms about her swollen belly,
And tears fill her eyes, soft as any doe’s.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

3 thoughts on “Sadbh”

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