the big placenta



after his birth

in that old cabin

in the mn north,

the big placenta

of my 11 pound baby boy

sat frozen in a metal bowl

in the chest freezer

on the old cabin porch,


when spring came

and the dirt moved again

i buried the placenta

under the apple tree,

and wondered if animals would dig it up,

imagining wolves,


circling in the moonlight,

feasting on what my body

had made and then dispelled,

the leftovers of creation.

i had planned to live there,

in the woods

   for the length of a l i f e,

til the sapling

   grew immense

giving forth magnificent apples

enriched from the

placenta, which had fed life

to my son as he grew within me.

i imagined the apples would feed him

in the warm sun of his childhood.

i could not see that far then


the things we do,

believing in a permanence

that we later lose and come to lament

as some kind of failure

to hold on and hold onto,

so imbued are we

with the belief

that we should know,

we should see,

how far a decision can

thread into the very rest

of the rest of your life;

that planting a tree

does not mean,

you will be there

to see it grow.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s