March 9, 2010

"Staircase" by Susan Telfer

Staircase

I stand at the kitchen sink in my bare feet
that melting July morning as my mother was dying.

I hear the thumps start on the top steps
over my head. Know in that instant

that my baby has crawled up the staircase
for the first time and is now somersaulting down.

Turning from the sink and running through
the hall as I hear his soft body hit each step.

Reaching my hand out to catch his head
above the tiles. Scooping him up in my arms,

my heart bludgeoning through both of us.
Nursing him then as we breathe at last.

I caught him like when he was born in his sac,
that melting July morning as my mother was dying.

(from House Beneath by Susan Telfer)