today
the first one tiny and dead
the second one tiny and dead
a friend and i worry that this might be it, or worse, more of the same to come
then three and four together, bigger, moving
like listening to an old smoker hacking you clear you own throat involuntarily while you clear their nose and mouth of birth mucus
then five
then six a minute later
‘five’ has stopped moving, i hold it upside down, perhaps id been to quick to return it to the mother, some mucus still obstructing…slowly breathing, the friend is equally worried, its not just me and memories of lamb death …fifteen minutes of clearing, washing and cajolling ends in sluggish movement, but its alive
a few drops from a syringe of powdered milk to try and start up the suckling reflex
thirty minutes later and its nibbling at a teat
its hard not to speak in cliches while it happens, never mind avoid writing in them, but its IS somehow miraculous and timeless, and marvellous in the way that accompanies only things in which we are irrelevant
and now its all over i want it to happen over again, for the strangely addictive miracle to keep coming, for more to emerge
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The combining of demonstrative and upper-class material is by all odds super rare together with the astronomic amount of blogs on the net today