All the babies born that Tuesday, <br />full of grace, went home by Thursday <br />except for one, my tiny girl <br />who rushed toward light too soon. <br />All the Tuesday mothers wheeled <br />down the corridor in glory, <br />their arms replete with warm baby; <br />I carried a potted plant. <br />I came back the next day and the next, <br />a visitor with heavy breasts, <br />to sit and rock the little pilgrim, <br />nourish her, nourish me.<br /><br />Julie Hill Alger<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tuesday-s-child-2/
