05/05/2011

Little just-begun, dough rising,
sparrow northward, kicker south.
Lentil to grapefruit, you sleep-step sidewise,
turnover, pop-up, tongue in the mouth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

“Sonogram” was drafted when I was five months pregnant. I had in the first months mostly thought of my daughter intellectually, but around this time I began to feel her powerful movements, and her patterns of waking, sleeping, hiccuping, turning, and reacting to external noises. This is when I began to think of her as having a personality, and the poem was written as an ode to those first glimpses of her character, I suppose.

BIO:

Rachel Richardson is the author of Copperhead (Carnegie Mellon, 2011). A recent Wallace Stegner Fellow, her poems have appeared in the Southern Review, New England Review, Slate, and elsewhere. She lives in Greensboro, NC.
MORE POEMS:

07/17/2013
'Door', Rachel West


11/27/2010
'And the moon', Erika Meitner


01/24/2010
'untitled', Kimiko Hahn