Harbinger
by Susanna Childress
The child
came slick
and fast
and split
her skin
in the
water where
she bobbed
and breathed
him down,
in the tub
of true
water, the woman
saying, That’s it,
That’s it. A man
caught
this baby’s
body with
his palms,
held up
the thing
they call Son and inside
her heart
the boar
with its
tusks
speared a
star and nobody
on this
planet spoke
its
sorrow, its gobs of light
pooling in
her
mouth.