Graduation Day

Graduation Day

I remember the day you broke from me
A blue and viscous blood-soaked pearl
And though I’d grown you in myself
An alien from a secret world

The cord was thick and rough and red
A rhubarb stalk tying me to you
You wailed I cried they held you up
My universe bound by one sinew

Your father sawed the surgeon sliced
Surprisingly it didn’t hurt
I felt the pressure of my love
Shift from my belly to my heart

For looking in your blinking eyes
I saw the one I’d longed to meet
Since I was just a girl with dolls
My child his hands his tiny feet

You’re grown you break from me again
Though distance waits I won’t be far
Just know my love will follow you
As watchful as the brightest star



Emily Eddins’s poetry, creative nonfiction, and short fiction have appeared in publications such as The Willow Review, The Louisville Review, Perceptions Magazine, The Toad Suck Review, Forge, Front Porch, The Cape Rock, Voices de la Luna, Edison Literary Review, and others. Her humorous essay collection, Altitude Adjustment, reached the Top Five in the Amazon Kindle Hot New Releases section for 90-minute short biographies. Her career includes time spent as a speechwriter, a journalist, and an editor. She holds a BA from Vanderbilt University, an MA from Georgetown University, and has studied creative writing at both Georgetown University and Stanford University. She lives in Northern California with her husband and children.

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