Ripening

The things our
bodies do are
quite miraculous
she tells me.

I went to the
doctor expecting
a stern face
and a lecture.
To be told to wait.
To keep trying.
To be patient.

But instead she listens,
not only to the facts of it,
but she lets me tell
the feel of it too.

The relief is immense
and hope comes in
on the rooms current.

Right now her body is
building a placenta
and a face.
No wonder she is
so tiered
she says.

I learned in my
first marriage
to be an
excellent liar,
which is sometimes
a very useful skill.

A berry hangs there
in the sun
ripening
slowly.
I taste the sweetness before
it gets to my mouth.

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