stem cell

cradle in a corner
rocks in place
door swings open
door slams shut

no doors
no windows
just enough room
never entered
never left

not a room
not a ghost
not alive
not a concept
not a poem
not a word

a baby marveling at the noises coming from its mouth
drooling all over himself
deflated
folded over a coathanger
hung in a closet

what choice do you have

the rubicon is flushed

the wind has blown
the tree has fallen from beneath the cradle
the roots have climbed out of the earth

a child is borne
down a river
of tangled wood

not a concept
not alive
not a ghost