first child

                          Love was the way we felt all over every minute    Quentin Duval

the way he looks at us
    hungry
he draws us to him
    until we see

our old bodies
    no longer sufficient
they cannot hold
    the deep well
the horizon       we need

    now
his eyes
    to drink us
into the circle
    he has made

Suzanne Swanson from What Other Worlds:  Postpartum Poems Ytterli Press