Today's poem is by Alison D. Moncrief Bromage

Firsts Born

Families are trundling out of me like monsters.
The firsts born of Gaia were fifty headed and one hundred handed,
there were uglier one-eyed brutes after.
In my dreams, my babies are crook-armed,
long-haired waifs that I stuff back into darkness and forget.
Until they appear in corners,
their heads cocked at a puzzle on the table, shaking a rattle or ten.

Copyright © 2016 Alison D. Moncrief Bromage All rights reserved
from Daughter, Daedalus
Truman State University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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