her cord fell off today
the dry stump a husk, just a thing to shed
its final thread hung sticky, stretched and shining in the morning light
alien, untouchable Other

for a heartbeat i watched it, enthralled
unable to bring myself to pull away that last tangible proof
that we once had a lifeline, she and me
that i was her first home, that we were more than Other, not quite two
even so soon it seems impossible

when i unwrapped her the next time the thread had broken
quietly, unheralded.
garbage now. she does not need it anymore.

and the maudlin sniff reverberates around my head
oh christ, they grow so fast
Josephine, my love, your mother is a sap.

**i swear Oscar didn’t lose his cord until he was nearly three weeks old. i’m sure she’s very advanced.

what did YOU do with your kids’ cord stumps? i felt vaguely guilty tossing it…like it ought to be saved like loose teeth or something…but…let’s face it, it’s a leftover body bit. and i am acculturated to think that’s kinda icky.**