If writing a poem could bring you <br />Into existence, I'd write one now, <br />Filling the stanzas with more <br />Skin and tissue than a body needs, <br />Filling the lines with speech. <br />I'd even give you your mother's <br /> <br />Close-bitten nails and light-brown eyes, <br />For I think she had them. I saw her <br />Only once, through a train window, <br />In a yellow field. She was wearing <br />A pale-coloured dress. It was cold. <br />I think she wanted to say something. <br /> <br />[From: The Transfiguring Places]<br /><br />Arvind Krishna Mehrotra<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-an-unborn-daughter/
