I still haven't mastered the art of knowing when Magpie Tales prompts are posted, but I have found whenever I get to them, I hit poetic paydirt of some sort.
These words took me by surprise. I figure they must be for someone out there to read, since they certainly weren't following my notions or ideas. As always, I treasure these prompts from Willow at Magpie Tales. Write, people. Write.
The Chameleon
She thinks of vaginal inspection when
She sees the mirror propped up on the bed.
She remembers
the days when she peered inside
to see if her cervix had turned blue.
Rumor had it or a book told her
a blue cervix means
a new life has taken hold inside
that red coated lightbulb on the
other side of this canyon she
explores. She cranes. her
neck a little bit differently
and simultaneously attempts
to spread open the fuzzy curtains
a little bit further while her
insides play peek-a-boo.
She has wished for so long
for this blueness she will do anything
including prop her ass up with pillows
check mucus deny her natural desires
in hopes of having the just right amount
of his male juice at the exact right
amount of time her contribution is
pointed at precisely the right geography
She read every book on pregnancy she could
find to prepare for Labor and Delivery years before
she can even master the art of conception
she concerned with delivering this living object
of conception which is hopefully making
the hiding cervix blue
She lies back on the pillow, attempting to
push those words, those somethings of conception
the mirror gets murky.
the technician used words
like that while she stared
at the ultra sound screen
the one-and-only time her
cervix looked remotely like an ocean
That life that briefly lit the bulb
inside her left before she got to cry
at the sound of the prehistoric heart
tones years before she knew
her mythical cervix was
a chameleon
she folds her knees up toward her
chin and waits, unwilling to continue
her archeological dig for now
Julie..having struggled with infertility this magpie really hit home with me.
I remember wishing so much for signs of life...
Posted by: Rene Foran | October 22, 2010 at 01:42 PM
oh man...a little more than i ever thought i knew...but i feel the painful emptiness there at the end..
Posted by: brian | October 22, 2010 at 05:18 PM
The sadness of this piece... I am so sorry for all women who go through infertility.
Posted by: Angie Muresan | October 22, 2010 at 11:53 PM
wondrous ending,
love the rich texture in your words..
cool magpie.
Posted by: Jingle | October 23, 2010 at 07:40 AM
Loved this! Loved the ending, loved the sense of futile hope
Posted by: Miss Nikki | October 23, 2010 at 10:51 AM
dang! fantastic how you captured the hope and the disappointment - hat off - this was very well done!
Posted by: Claudia | October 23, 2010 at 12:07 PM
oh so well done- infertility makes one feel like a walking time bomb..."will it be this month?"
Posted by: KatheW | October 24, 2010 at 09:48 AM
very sad, my daughter had a miscarriage last year and it was so hard on her...your poem is so poignant yet so hopeful...well done...bkm
Posted by: bkmackenzie | October 24, 2010 at 08:55 PM
Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.
(btw, the new Magpie prompts are posted on Wednesdays or Thursdays. I had a super busy week, so this one was posted extra early.)
Posted by: willow | October 25, 2010 at 05:54 AM
This was a dig down deep and see into the pain and sorrow a woman feels going through this. A powerful poem. Nicely crafted for mag 37 or just nicely written poem.
Cheers,
joanny
Posted by: joanny | October 26, 2010 at 10:49 AM