Sonogram

When the dot on the screen shivered
in the flickering snow, I knew
I loved you.

When I offered a fuzzy picture
of your invisible heart to your father,
when he left, and only returned buried
in the cacophony of static, apologizing,
when the clouds floating at the bottom
of my teacup told me your future,
when I washed your heart all night, erasing
you from the paper before
they wiped you off my womb, I knew
I loved you.
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This makes me want to cry, deepwaters.

The first time you see your baby in a sonogram, it's just amazing.

I don't mind the father leaving drama in here. It was a little unexpected for me.

I read it two ways. I hope one of my interpretations is correct!

I read it, at first, as a mother who has loved her newborn from the moment she saw the dot in the snow. The Dad part, I was okay with. I didn't place too much importance, well, enough importance. And, I read the ending as happy. Wiping the baby off after giving birth. She's a happy, single mom.

In my second interpretation, I placed emphasis on the Dad, and I read this as the N who aborted a fetus, due to --horrible circumstances, personal reasons -- in her life.
erasing
you from the paper before
they wiped you off my womb, , which makes the love a sorrowful one.

I don't know what's tripping me up. Line breaks, maybe? My own kookiness, perhaps. My own silly thoughts.

Anyway, I love the melancholy voice.

Very interesting, Rosa. I never realized two interpretations possible. I am conflicted between enjoying the flexibility of the piece and wanting the picture to be clearer. At the moment, I am happy with the flexibility. Thank you for commenting.

Hi, Deeps. Before I get started I must warn you I've got a heavy cold, so might not be thinking too straight (nothing new there anyway). I'll try not to sneeze all over your poem, though.

I have to confess I'd never heard the term 'sonogram' before (we just call it an 'ultrasound scan' or an 'ultrasound' here. It's instantly self-explanatory, but I don't like the word much, personally, especially in this context, as it seems too formally lingusitic somehow for the subject. But that's an outsider's point of view.

Anyway, I think S1 is great. It all just works.

When the dot on the screen shivered
in the flickering snow, I knew
I loved you.

But I wonder if this LONG sentence in S2 gets a little confusing? I also wonder if the 4 uses of 'when' is a little 'devicey'? I would rather go for some straight statements rather than these relative clauses, as I think the narrative would become a lot more immediate if there were no 'whens'. I'm also not quite sure if he comes back drunk or out of reach or on drugs or in some other way buried under static. Anyway, I wonder if this strophe could all be simplified a little and made more direct? It seems too wordy to me, and I'd definitely go for paring it down a little.

When I offered a fuzzy picture
of your invisible heart to your father,
when he left, and only returned buried
in the cacophony of static, apologizing,
when the clouds floating at the bottom
of my teacup told me your future,
when I washed your heart all night, erasing
you from the paper before
they wiped you off my womb, I knew
I loved you.

BTW, I didn't get that much feeling when I saw the first ultrasound thing wriggling around. It seemed like a miracle that one was able to see it at all, and even see what sex it was, but it was like watching something on TV. Kicking felt much more real to me. But he didn't really arrive for me till he came out all purple and I got to hold him while his mother recovered a little. I know this is about a mother swimming out and making contact, and I know this is often a big difference between mothers and fathers. I guess it would be different if we were carrying them...

Anyway, I like this poem and what it says. Just wonder if it might emerge a bit more from itself if S2 was a little less cluttered.

Just some thoughts anyway.

Steve.

Steve -

Thank you for reading and commenting. S2 does not sit right with me either; thanks very much for your suggestions.
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