Birth Poem by Phillip Erb

Clearly it's nearly morning…

The darkness outside my
window provides a feeble
illusion of eternal youth
the lonely blue moon has grown
far too tired already to entertain.

No one knows I am here…

In shadow on my knees,
arms outstretched above my head
reaching out for mercy
grasping the finger of grace
gratefully praying not to fall.

The night is nearly over, and I would like to know who took minutes of this moment away from me tonight.