we leave for Halifax first thing tomorrow.

the wheel has turned again.  i can feel my cervix leaving the building, softening, losing interest in its task.  so we go for safe-keeping, for measurement and steroids, to be four floors from the best NICU east of Montreal rather than four hours.  if i were a gambling man, i’d bet on me staying for awhile.  my doctor mentioned i might want to bring my things.

i tried to be extra careful this past week, tried to look at the cool of this shuttered house and its green yard and the cat and the boy and the man i share it with as a playground of freedoms…a broad horizon, compared to the alternative.  i tried not to chafe, not to putter, not to allow myself just one more little privilege to do.  but i suspect the freedom to make those choices is about to be rescinded.  and i understand it is for the best, know better than anyone how far i would go if need be to try to ensure a safe arrival for this little one, this one my body shelters and threatens, all at the same time.  i want to do right by her, and i will go.

and still the light pours in yellow on the white French door in the long June twilight and i kiss Oscar good night and sorrow to leave…afraid that change and chance will somehow fail to deposit me back in this place, this summer’s night of now, ever again.