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Poetry | March 2011

Mother of Invention

By Dawn Cadwell

You were so not me
so soon. I thought I’d own you
like a good piece of furniture, chosen
in my taste, to outlast me.
But your new eyes followed my face
until I lolled, belly up, obedient
maternal beast, to touch the forceps mark
high on your cheeks, thinking yes, but,
the concept was mine.

1 reply on “Mother of Invention”

Deborahsays:
March 7, 2011 at 5:29 am

This is lovely. Unsentimental and presentient but loving.

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