The Sea And The sonogram

In the fourth month of hope  
you were delivered in clatters 
with your home in a window,  
marked for my attention 
with a  signature. 
   
I held you for a short time, 
whispering your name 
in a disinfected wind 
they called you Downs, 
by a reference number. 
   
In the fourth month of needles  
the three of us walked  
in a photographed wind.  
We called each other darling 
by the sea and your sonograph.  
   
I held you via your Mother
your face in my head was a boys, 
It looked nothing like me 
and I chose not to look  
As they swathed you in a logo towel 
named after a Saint. 
   
In the fifth month of blame  
the two of us walked 
in a mantelpiece wind, 
she called me a coward 
as grey air missed the ocean 
lacing battered rocks  ..