Myth Studies
The custodian erases whatever simple biology
lesson was on the blackboard: BIRTH.
It's only a several-seconds glimpse I've had
through a door on my way to the car, but enough
for me to think of him as the Saint
of First-Time Mothers. What I mean is,
after the walls split, and the screams stopped,
and Atlantis disappeared, another Atlantis
--the one we carry in our heads, of scented gardens
and ornate avenues--fills the emptiness.
I've seen it in my friends: the terrible
pelvis-wrenching pain is at an end, and then
some chemical washes the mind, and creates
the blankness of fresh possibility.
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