Travail

i
we are making a baby
from an idea
soaked three days
in a new kind of rain

we send prayers
airborne, slid into
tissue-thin blue

addressed to
the kisses
behind sheer walls

ii
never was there a
never was there
never was

and he closed his eyes
before cradles fell
from the plaintive sighs
of a distant owl-sit

rock-a-bye bye bye
rock-a-bye