for my neighbor, due in may

Why Pregnant Women Don’t Tip Over
-title of an article in The New York Times

Because a single thought occupies the mind of a traveller,
which at each crossroads reappoints itself.

Because the best tool for balance is bulk, and the high-wire walker
leaning leeward prevents the plunge downwind.

Because a lullabye hums steady in the cogs of the lumbar curve.

Because half a hundred hormones stew in the blood and sinews,
dissolving like salt that holds the dhow afloat.

And also clouds assume oddball shapes; yet their progress proves
smoother than any boat on any lake.

Because balloons bloated with helium hover lamplike; over time,
tired, yes, but dragging their strings loyally, royally.

Because the spine is a stack of boxes storing torpor,
even doses of wax and wane.

Because the hillside hangs on through erosion
and the arrowhead’s exposed unbroken.

Because erect is a synonym for sane, for symmetry,
for world-on-a-string.

Because sex makes a swashbuckler of us all
but there’s an anchor called the fetal load.

And as the Scots say when the cup is full carry it even.

In other words it’s not the cowl that makes the monk but how he bears it.

And even your bachelor aunt will tell you
the flophouse is no place for a lady.