I keep going.  

After laboring with tongue hanging out
she floats down on the breath of angels 
     a wee satin-sash-wrapped package
     a live porcelain doll featuring a delicate button nose
     dark blue twinkles of magic, a pouting pucker, rosy cheeks
     fine strands of dark fluff on her tiny head
     ten, long little fingers and ten, perfect little piggies
     a warm armful of squishy, squeeze-y, marshmallow-y sweetness.
This gift of sunshine and miracle—cause for my greatest affection  


after wheeling out the hospital doors with delight hanging out
I’m hit head-on
     by dry mouth, decreased capacity for air
     racing heart and rushing mind.
     Dragon-hot fire rages down my neck.
     Skies darken, atmosphere cools
     confidence burns, faith fails
     hope diminishes, peace flees
The stork’s prize given to me—cause for my greatest anxiety.  

What now?