February 8th, 2005 by Jim Clark
Today we had our first ultrasound since the insertion. The image shows both embryos have implanted. We could even see a bit of a heartbeat in the one on the right, which is surprising because it’s about a week early to be seeing that kind of activity.
January 30th, 2005 by Jim Clark
It’s official — the wife is pregnant.
we withdrew into the song of a sea shell and the whisper of the
ocean floor offered us its final call.
holding our thoughts like a deep breath we surrendered to the
serenity of the billowing waves.
palm fronds crackled in the wind, deceiving us by playing the
rain in this summer play.
embers rose from the stone pit like dying fireflies caught in the
forever dance of the ocean’s music, lighting the black sand of
our evening stage as they climbed into the threatening sky.
we followed the music up the spiral of the sea shell, twisting
clockwise to the cadence of a million ocean waves at our heads.
on the beach we were discovered in the haze of the rising sun–
it was all captured in time, the beach was our stage,
sunrise was the final curtain call
and we gave the world a sleeping ovation.
January 19th, 2000 by Jim Clark
I removed the bedsheets, took down the drapes and
replaced them with blinds, rearranged the furniture.
I painted the walls white, ripped up the carpet to
reveal the hardwood floors beneath, scrubbed the
bathtub and shower. All of her things are gone,
every last little reminder I can find.
And yet, as I walk down the hallway and into each
empty room, I can still smell her skin. Her laughter
bounces from wall to wall; an echo like torture.
I am often caught by my reflection in glass, usually
in a window, and my own face startles me. I’m not
sure what I expect to see there. It is always a
stranger looking back, an old man not unlike my father
but less like his little boy.