Treasure Island

Summer Shaw


Our Womb


You sit close to me
on the porch each day
and we talk about moving to the west
and dream about our new house with rooms
that are painted in blues and greys
and how the rain will smell and just actually exist
unlike here
where the foundation moves and cracks with the clay each season
and all of the flowers we'd hope to plant never got planted
but it's nice
looking into your eyes and feeling hopeful
I wonder if this is how a baby feels
just before leaving its mother's womb
ready to taste oxygen and fall towards her breast
resting at last in her arms

Submitted: Sunday, October 06, 2013
Edited: Monday, October 07, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Our Womb by Summer Shaw )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. What the hell, Nassy Fesharaki
  2. Chair, dr.k.g.balakrishnan kandangath
  3. See if I care, Mark Heathcote
  4. Wishes Granted, Bill Cantrell
  5. Killer instinct mind, Mark Heathcote
  6. Book Condition: (Fairest of the) Fair, mary douglas
  7. It's The Fairy Queen Out Of Sight In Pal.., mary douglas
  8. *VII*- To Love, Leslie Guylee Cron
  9. Every Man Remembered!, Denis Martindale
  10. White Frosted Cake Viewed At Ages 6 and 7, mary douglas

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r,
Far south the lift,
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jessie Pope

 
[Hata Bildir]