Unexpected

For Writer's Island
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Colors

Blue and trucks,
racecars.
No pink, certainly.

Convinced you are a boy,
Dominic Derek.
Who can argue
with the needle test?
And a slow heartbeat?
And that thing
we saw
when you moved
during your ultrasound?

We knew you were a boy,
a new little snowboarder,
a fisherman.
There you were in your father’s arms,
love dripping from his eyes.

My little girl
now a mother
gathered in my arms
sharing the knowledge
of labor and pain
and birthing a son.

Big eyes,
a smile full of wonder,
words that float
in the air
but don’t penetrate.
“Mom, it’s a girl!”

A girl?
My ears are ready
for blue words;
they don’t comprehend
these pink birds
fluttering,
fluttering,
finally finding a home
in my heart.

Ruffles and dolls
Mother
Daughter.
Mother
Daughter.