Point of No Return

a mere shadow of beauty did her gray face maintain: eyes weary, worn red, lips pale in a wince, and her doctor distracted, some nurse coaching “push” while slender, frail fingers clutched tightly my own as the scene I did witness, growing grossly enthralled by our baby emerging, our tiny, pink boy, whom she took to her breast, eyes sparkling with joy, and, while the lad suckled, with brief fear I blanched— Are we ready for this? Now parents we are … December 7, 2016 Point of No Return Poetry Contest Nicola Byrne, Sponsor