Hanae Rose Kurahara Sisk

Your mother’s womb fit perfectly.
You couldn’t even turn to leave.
So, the doctor pulled you loose
through a hand-cut hatch,
and changed your blue surprise
into naked crimson cries.

We warmed you in white linen.
Wrapped your shivering soul
as tightly as we dared,
and marveled at your instinct as
you made sense of Mother’s breast.
We named you, Hanae, our best.

June 18, 2011