Milla Charlette

Written by: Alistair Bain

Nana’s a safe harbour for a child,
a rattling baby taking water
at the christening font, and fluid
in the lungs. Little’s of consequence

for you, ceremony or theology, or
clan gathering. We pilfer your
routine deftly as rogue genes have
jellied your muscle. But held above

the waterline you’re safe now, if
perplexed to tears, the agony of taking
passage from death to life not quite
surpassing navigation of more hostile currents.