05/05/2011

Little just-begun, dough rising,
sparrow northward, kicker south.
Lentil to grapefruit, you sleep-step sidewise,
turnover, pop-up, tongue in the mouth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

“Sonogram” was drafted when I was five months pregnant. I had in the first months mostly thought of my daughter intellectually, but around this time I began to feel her powerful movements, and her patterns of waking, sleeping, hiccuping, turning, and reacting to external noises. This is when I began to think of her as having a personality, and the poem was written as an ode to those first glimpses of her character, I suppose.

BIO:

Rachel Richardson is the author of Copperhead (Carnegie Mellon, 2011). A recent Wallace Stegner Fellow, her poems have appeared in the Southern Review, New England Review, Slate, and elsewhere. She lives in Greensboro, NC.
MORE POEMS:

02/11/2011
'While I, in Ohio, Dreamed of an Intruder', Jade Ramsey


06/06/2012
'Not a Moon', Patrick Pethybridge


11/02/2011
'Epitaph for a Dead President', Geoffrey Brock