The Wellspring by Sharon Olds

The Hand

. . .
Even before he was fully born, when he
looked around him, he seemed content,
I saw him in the little birth-room mirror,
his bluish head turning, his shoulders and
body inside my body, as if in this
new life, from the neck down
you wore your mother.
His eyes seemed even then to focus,
as if he knew this place, or had not
expected to know it.

Day 14: #TheSealeyChallenge