Movement Is Life

She carried her bump with pride,

ridiculous dungarees,

and voluminous polka-dot dresses

long before

she needed.

‘Movement Is Life’

they stamped on her appointment card,

You should feel the baby

like a fluttering.

She could not decide

if it was the baby,

or indigestion.

All felt was

was tiredness,

a total exhaustion,

walking through treacle,

dozing off whilst watching television,

when he was talking to her,

at traffic lights.

Someone had doubled gravity

but no one else had noticed.

She cupped her hands

over her barely convex stomach

and prayed for success,

as she prayed

she fell asleep.