memoirs, art and fragments by Thomas Milner

Birth entered the room

Birth entered the room

The tender wrapped thing,


The inner quietness of exhausted birthing,

Shocked by the trauma of his passage

His smudged dark hair was damp against the cloth.

The little animal was nestling cold

Just starting out.

William Bastos Milner

I knelt and peered in silent communication,

Love inchoate.

Then he raised his head

Oh my heart oh my son.

He opened sightless eyes,

Primordial, looked left and right.

Hello youngster, welcome to the world.


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