It was spring
the day I galloped
from my mother’s wound.
I was an accident, she said.
but she swaddled me in trinkets anyway.
In the maternity ward,
where she mused over her flaccid belly,
stitched lovingly tight like a football,
she happed to glance out the window
where a strolling couple paused
and embraced on the park’s path.
Hand in hand, the lovers passed.
That was an accident, too.
Caroline Misner's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Accident by Caroline Misner )
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- Epigram on Dr. Babington's looks, Robert Burns
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(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 March 1926 – 25 July 1966)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1924 - 2000)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)