Third trimester
your belly swollen
like a spring river
raging with too much rain

The heat inside
too much to bear
so we went hiking
along the escarpemnt

Your mother angry
when she discovered
how we spent the afternoon
clambering over glacial till

If you had fallen
you might have popped
like a water-filled balloon
our child floating away in the winds

That day remains
glorious in my memory
eating early summer apples
in an abandoned orchard

We lay in the meadow
watching clouds morph
pretending nothing would
ever change our lives.

This a February challenge to myself – to write novel poetry: One-a-day.