Leda’s child

White shell tumbles to the ground
Your fingers touch the yolk
You pour what could have been
From fist to fist
The zygote clings to your skin
But hatching takes time
And warmth

I could have been a goddess
Virgin Artemis with her bow
I could have been

But you spread you fingers slowly
And let what could have been me

Yvonne Walus

If you've any comment on her poems, Yvonne Walus would be pleased to hear from you.
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