My Mother’s Pregnancy


brown and blue bird on body of water closeup photography

Photo by Monique Laats on


I think of you in the Rhyl grey sky

pressing thread veins from your thighs

inside I was knotted into the calm audio

breaking through water like a kingfisher feeding.


I think of you watching kelp waves thickly falling

My Dad and you hugging it out stretching his cardigan

he was fretting about money, and you worried about me

what if I was like winter arriving too early and cold?


When I was born a smoke cloud came and went

they doused me in flannelette, you held me like silk

we are perfect in a single moment then never again

I was raised in a nicotine mist and working mans fog.


I think of my Mother missing her Mother long gone

it is time to stop living in Tru-print coloured photographs,

my mother is getting older to the point of bending like polaroids.

It is time to gather the bones of my Mothers pregnancy and

say what I shall not say “you were the kingfisher, starved”.


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