Photograph by Amy Hart
Little wombnaut, dot,
stowaway,
traveler with no ticket,
you were already loved
so why did you leave?
Were you nervous?
No ticket was required.
Did you have second thoughts?
Did you miss the secret planet
you came from?
What made you turn back?
We were all waiting for you
to disembark:
champagne and balloons
ordered and in place.
Are you sitting somewhere
with a telescope
zeroing in
on the one whose body
was your spaceship,
what you would have called mother?
What I call my daughter?
You would have been granddaughter.
Are you puzzled?
Those things falling from her eyes?
We call those teardrops.
An ultrasound photo
with the words
It’s a boy
beneath it,
from my daughter.
My daughter
who last year lost
a baby.
I want to write something
profound,
about gratitude,
second chances,
a sort of thank you
to whatever invisible power,
real or imagined,
arranged this.
But it is best
to not over-explain.
Best
to leave the reader
with a final image—
like maybe a praying man
staring in wonder
at a tiny peanut with a face.
Neil Carpathios is the author of seven full-length poetry collections, most recently, Lifeaholics Anonymous (Kelsay Books, 2023). His book of original aphorisms, The Lost Fragments of Heraclitus (Wipf and Stock), was also released in 2023. Currently, he teaches creative writing at the University of Mount Union in Ohio. “The poems here deal with the miscarriage of a future grandchild, and the miraculous second chance pregnancy of my daughter.”