A Cellarful of Nose - Future Shoes

worries suddenly seemed, how self-referential when all along this
marvelous person was boring into existence out of next to
nothing, a gob of germ, calling to itself such completeness.
I thought about how hard it was for a person to come into
being. Hard on the mother and hard on the father, too. Judgment
that you had planned on isn't there any more. The you that was is
someone new now, everyone is new. I saw how all my
convolutions and worries were maybe my way of drawing fire
from the real action, which was now in my arms, blinking at the
silent bedroom full of people, this hungry life, my heart.
There is honor in a newborn's eyes. It seemed to me there
was honor everywhere, nobility and valor filling every seam and
every interstice of the world. I forgave everyone everything, total
amnesty, and after, champagne.
I snipped the cord and laid the girl on her mother's heaving
breast.
"This is Daniele," I heard myself say, patting the still-wet
skin.
August, 1984
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