Lilies

On the path to the shack
lilies and their spikes
drip last night’s rain

in his ears
voices of wise midwives
“the cervix is like a flower”
they say

poet sits down
on path
beside lilies
sips hot tea

and blows
so much of his
hot breath
onto the unopened
flowers

if her cervix is like
these lilies
today our baby
will come

steamy poet breath
on lilies

sunrise
on the path

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