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Girl-Child in the Promised Land


At that moment when I was conceived
Although there was as yet no I
At that moment, I felt a sting.
           
At that moment when those two halves
Were irrevocably uniting
Although there was as yet no I
At that moment, I felt a sting.
           
The egg, the sperm—neither one
Felt itself the least in need
But the egg, so easily swelled,
Allowed that slim spelunker in.
           
I imagine the egg from which I came:
Content. Cocksure as ancient China
Famed for never conquering
But masterfully absorbing
Every useful foreign influence
Would-be invader, luckless intruder
That by plan or pure mischance
Somehow wandered in.
           
I imagine the sperm from which I came:
Misguided. Supremely arrogant.
One more intrepid explorer
Convinced he's fulfilling his destiny.
He will succeed where all others have failed.
He will find the mythical city
Place of long-lost, priceless treasure.
He will claim his rightful plunder.
           
It is nothing personal,
I'm just the X on his map.


© 2010 Peggy Landsman
 Published in Sage Trail Poetry Magazine and Cyclamens and Swords


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