Poem 40: Fourteen Lines

You were waiting for me, pink
Silk and black dye in my dream
Though it was bitter, bitter cold and the baby
Though the other night, the water

We waited in the sunlight for the baseline
In the room, the phone never rang
And the nurse brought us juice
The numbers on the monitor were all over

And the student with the broken finger
Despite all the pillows and the coughing
In my dream you reminded me

In the kitchen I remembered
The turning over and the 2 a.m.
I'm glad he was not born on caucus day