For Nikola and Sam
The thump and weight of the newborn –
I thought I’d got used to it, but there,
amongst monitors, gowns, a choice
of CDs and the news of an assassination,
he rose up from IV scans and screamed.
In those conversational cross-currents,
some kind of bond began and down
corridors busy with emergencies,
he arrived in time – first breath
with the definite hesitancy
of an opening chord: outline
of a knowledge which would grow
and sharpen with every shift and jag –
the mornings waking up
with this whole new life between us.
