In Utero

Of course I’ve had some uterine dreams.
I’m scarred by utopia, so it seems,
A water baby of inner space.
There’s no pause in this genetic race,
Expanding, devouring, kicking free
From this claustrophobic territory.
A bathtub locked in a tiny room:
I’ve got to get out! Make it soon!
Then I find myself moving free
On a bed with my husband next to me.
But they’re not all nightmares. Some are dull,
A desolate fun house, just a hull
With a giant slide for quick release
From a stultifying life of ease.
Then some are dreams of ecstasy
On a warm river, floating free,
But surrounded by expectant love
As another human waits above
For the relief of dropping this load
As it shifts: a zygote, then a toad -
All deep time in less than a year,
Then squeezed into a life of fear.

Elizabeth Hurst

If you have any thoughts about this poem, Elizabeth Hurst would be pleased to hear them