Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
Hush Little Baby

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in my daughter's 13th week hush little baby
holding my hand tight to her belly
she asks, do you feel the baby? don't say a word
unexpected electricity cracks

jolts me back to 1962
my 13th week

full of hippy freedom in Ann Arbor
I flew to a warehouse in New York City
and got in line

a small room, the window cradling the sun hush little baby
a woman holding my hand
or holding me down don't say a word
after, the doctor sat down on a stool hush
in the corner of the room little
holding his head in bloodied hands baby

don't say a word


Mary Weiler is the mother of three grown children and Nana to four-month-old Sophia. Mary lives with her husband, photographer David Weiler, on the Tropic of Cancer in Todos Santos, Baja California, Sur, Mexico. Most recently her poems have been published in El Calendario.


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