I slumbered in solitude but was never alone
as Mom cradled me from the inside out.
Her heartbeat; a murmuring so dear —
every rhythmic pulse; a sonnet,
and every breath; a ballad.
It was a labor of love
until my first cry
broke through the silent air —
and with scarlet ink shared,
we wrote our first poem together.
© Roxi St. Clair
~ Dedicated with love, to my Mother.