Approaching my Birthday

I’ve scant knowing –

a planned home birth, youngest
of four, a week premature,
hints of heavy weather, relief
I didn’t arrive yellow.

My mother, never one for story-weaving,
no longer alive to provide memories

I dream auguries –

a moon-bereft night, piercing shriek
with ghost-winged glide, fox-prints
circumscribe our house, a roof-perched
murmuration flies

as Snedronningen veils my mother’s eyes,
sets snowdrops in my sight.

Nancy Charley

If you have any comments on this poem,  Nancy Charley would be pleased to hear from you.