Mary Stone Dockery

M a r y  S t o n e  D o c k e r y

The Emptiness Begins

in the morning, when I wake

and realize the pregnancy only a dream.

I rub my palms over my stomach

until I am sure nothing stirs inside.

When I find that I can reach

through to the wings of my lungs,

there is calm.

The days are blotted

with slick seeds.

Babies with large, egg-shaped heads

turn to watch my empty arms.

At the grocery store,

I buy more eggs

and learn to eat them

one by one in the dark.

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