We swim
	In a clamorous ocean,
	Drowning our hearts
	In dreary,
	Wearisome toil.
	We forget
	That in the womb
	There was no sound
	Save the gentle rush
	Of loving blood,
	The constant beating
	Of our mother's heart.
	We did not learn
	To shout and swear
	Till we forgot
	From whence we came
	And what we left behind.

7/31/81

© Fred O'Bryant. All rights reserved.

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