The Pregnant Sky by Dennis Lange

           The Pregnant Sky

The clouds, a swollen gray, hang down
   Like baby carried low
By woman in her pregnancy
   With only days to go. 

We watch, like fathers, wondering
   How much more can it take
For our beloved, the pregnant sky,
   To have her water break? 

And when it does on our dry land
   And sky gives birth to joy
All men exult as if their wives
   Had baby girl or boy.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2013.

 

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