Ode To An Ovum

 

I still have trouble believing

the egg deep inside my own body

went and turned into someone else.

*Prompt from a poem by Kim Addonizio

He was began as a speck on my ovary, a single cell.
We shared oxygen; exhaled the same CO2.
He was female. Just like me.
A nameless ovum,
like my elbow, or my heart valve, or my earlobe.

Nestled against the flesh of my womb.
His eggdom exploded into maleness
How dare he change irrevocably!

When did he think of breaking away?
How did he become an independent operator?
Was it my music?
Did he part ways because of my acoustic guitar, blues-piano,
my love of Bob-Dylan-harmonica?
Did he, even then, yearn for a garage band?

We didn’t know that ovum was a he 
Until he popped out on a rainy Thursday,
brown eyes alert, head covered with dark hair.
It was 9:30 pm. I hadn’t eaten all day.
He watched me gobble a ham sandwich.

I watched him
perched in his father’s arms,
He showed us his gummy gums,
raised his left hand beside his small, round head, waved—
And smiled.

2011-2013