Nine Months

It took my daughter
nine months
till her fingers and toes,
her heart and mind,
were ready for the light.

It took my mother
nine months
to unlearn living,
finally giving in
to the rage of cancers.

It took the town of Salem
nine months
to press and burn
its witches,
even though they had no magic.

It can take even longer
to finish a poem.
This one is in
its seventh month,
and I do not know it yet.