Eggs

a poem & where it came from

A poem from my recent collection.

Where it came from

I wrote this poem in August of 2022, not quite six months after my last chemo treatments. At the time I was still feeling sick—coming out of the fog of all the chemicals, uncertain whether my next scan would be clear or not. I had many intentions to avoid wishful thinking after that experience, especially when I should just be grateful to be alive. So when I felt longing and desire it was often painful as I tried to push it away.

One of my traditions that spring and summer was to bring my books and journal out onto my front stoop to spend some time in the sunlight and, on this particular morning, the first draft of this poem was born. I was thinking about birth and potential for a million reasons including my own unknown ability to become pregnant and our brooding chicken in the backyard who started to attempt to hatch the fake plastic eggs in the coop.

And in the moment, I found some solace in the idea that there is always some measure of creation inside all of us. It may not be exactly what we want or on the timeline we imagine, but there are all sorts of creative acts that come from inside us that are not diminishing like an egg count.

You can purchase a copy of a Mass of Feathers: Love Poems here for more poems about birds, family, nature, loss, and grief.