Birth

 Spring runoff trickles

Through the coulees.

Patches of eroding snow

Cling to shaded hillsides

Where April sun tentacles

Never reach. Crocus

Poke up purple heads

To test the air

For sun-silly buttercups,

While hundreds of tiny blossoms,

Imposters of snowflakes,

Lie low to the ground.

Ground spongy, wet, mushy;

My horse’s hooves

Make sucking sounds,

Planted and uprooted,

Planted and uprooted,

Leave holes which seep

With urine stained snowmelt.

Cattle smells, pungent,

Mingle with dusty hay

And bruised sagebrush.

My horse sweaty

Between blue-jeaned thighs,

I ride the crest

Of my own earthy season,

Nineteen and pregnant.

I ride the circle,

Search for tonight’s

Maternity cases.

Matronly heads turn inward,

Society dames whisper secrets,

Bulky bodies surround scattered bales,

Rear ends conveniently upthrust

For inspection, bovine jaws

Methodically crunch fodder.

Mona Cow had twins again;

Nice heifer calves,

Good breeding stock.

A newborn huddles in the wild-rose,

Early abandoned by an indifferent mother,

Feeling more maternal

With full bag dripping.

She complains loudly

Over in the next draw.

My horse nudges Mama

For wet licks, rough tongue

Reunion on damp calf hide.

Slurpy sucking, lose one tit,

Plunge in for another.

Mothered up.

I cut out two heifers

Heavy with calf and trail

Them into the barn corral,

Follow, watch snatches

Hang loose and floppy,

Wonder if mine

Will look like that.

The sun slips

Between gestating clouds

And I shiver,

Glad for the horsey warmth

On my legs, for the feel

Of prickly brown horse hair

Invading the place

Of my own brown hair, warm,

Wishing the birth of my baby

Be accompanied

By the same smells and sounds.

But it isn’t.

Hushed. Anesthetic.

White. Harsh.

My body cold,

Strapped to the table,

Spread-legged,

Feet upraised,

Clamped in stirrups,

Riding a metallic horse

Into the pain.

I want to hide in sleep

Because I know birth

And this is not birth.

More doctors

Rush to assist.

Please let me sleep.

Help us, Honey.

Push now.

All we can give you is oxygen.

All I want is sleep.

One more push.

Hushed whispers.

Soft sounds rustling.

Purposeful futility.

My eyes are closed.

My heart is closed.

Someone slips

My baby away

Into the silence.