They used to be joyful
the pictures of babies
used to pertain to me.
But today my belly is swollen with portent
and I note with unease
that my haruspex is a man.

Female seers are reserved for life
and I am an obedient bag of death,
viscera spread on the gritty screen
waiting to be read.

The ancient technician gives no indication;
although he seems a little kinder
on the way out than
on the way in…

Later — the children rolling
like pups in the ocean of my bed —
we point at the funny photos
of mummy’s insides and say — look,
it’s those black spots that are the problem.

© Michele Seminara

First published in Bluepepper, 2014.